Doppelganger Non Grata
by Karkadinn
Summary: The evil duplicate Titans summoned by Trigon have returned, and they force the Titans to examine who they are and how they feel about each other to beat them. BBRaven, RobinRaven, & RobinStarfire all toyed with to various degrees.
1. Part I, Chapter 1

Doppelganger Non Grata

**Notes: This is _not_ a lemon or an unsavory fetish fic, but it may seem like one at first. You are forewarned and I am not responsible for any psychological scarring.**

**Not that anyone cares, but I wrote this chapter listening to the Silent Hill 3 song 'Letter from the Lost Days.'**

Part I: Trickster

Chapter 1: Control

Silence was to Raven what cute little puppies were to others. It was something reassuring, something reliable in the universe. A comforting thing that you could always rely on to be there and make your day a little brighter. So, when Starfire's latest bizarre culinary experiment ("Friend Raven, please, what is the difference between powder of baking and soda of baking?" Even Raven didn't exactly know the answer to that one, but she knew it was bad to get them mixed up...) inevitably blew up half the kitchen and tried to eat the other half, she retired to her room with grateful haste, and let the sound of absolutely nothing happening wrap around her as warm and safe as a second cloak. Robin was helping clean up the mess, out of the goodness of his heart, of course. Beast Boy and Cyborg seemed to share Raven's opinion on the matter – if the love-birds wanted to flirt while letting the rest of them miss out on dull cleaning chores, then all the better for everyone.

She flopped on her bed with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling with a feeling of faint relief. Being around the rest of the team was always so stressful. In a good way, of course, but still, it was enervating. She never felt completely herself until she was alone again. She wondered sometimes if the other Titans felt that way too.

There was nothing to do, in a very pleasant sort of way. She could take a nap, if she wanted, or reread one of her favorite books, or listen to one of the cds her friends had given her for Christmas. She always skipped the loud, angry, growling tracks, but luckily the 'goth' music genre her friends had assumed she liked was also full of more ethereal, delicate vocal work that fitted her perfectly. She still owed Beast Boy a smack for the Marilyn Manson one, though. Ugh. Talk about not conducive to meditation. He tried his best, she knew, but he never really seemed to _understand_. It wasn't his fault they were two completely different people, she reflected with a tiny wry smile. If she were honest with herself she had a hard time understanding him, too. What was so fascinating about video games? And why did he _like_ being the center of attention? And what made him think a giant maggot would make a good housepet?

Ah well, mysteries to solve another day.

Nothing to do, nothing to do... bask in the nothingness...

Except...

She was feeling a little, well.

Heh.

There was always _that_, of course.

Why not? She'd already meditated today. She was feeling quite at peace with herself. She could handle it.

But first, she looked around the room very, very thoroughly, staring through the shadows into every nook and cranny.

"Beast Boy," she said just in case, "if you're in here as a fly again, you have five seconds to get out before I teleport you to a dimension where the tofu eats you."

Not a flicker of movement anywhere. Not a speck of green.

Whew. Couldn't be too careful, not after that little fly debacle with Malchior.

Malchior...

She closed her eyes, memories and their attendant emotions washing over her, mild but vivid. It wasn't without guilt that she accepted her continued longing for him, her desire to drink in the warmth of his body as she'd imagined it to be, and his silky voice speaking sweet things to her again. He was nothing like that. That had been all a game, a mask. Trickery. But it had been such wonderfully beautiful trickery, and she missed it even though she knew she could never have it back. Seduction worked on physical levels as well as emotional ones, and he had been the only person she had ever truly lusted after, in her quiet, dignified, timid little way. Lusting after a man built of paper, a series of mental images built from words in a book... well, it _was_ pathetic, but it was all she'd ever had.

She imagined a world where things had gone differently, where Malchior had been sincere and become a Titan and professed his eternal love to her... and expressed it in ever so many ways...

It felt a little wrong, it felt just a bit sick and twisted and pathetic, but she didn't care. It was so easy to imagine how it could have gone another way. A better way. Her fingers roamed downwards, almost on auto-pilot as her daydreams carried her along.

After a while, as her imagination got carried away with things, the leotard was becoming more of a barrier than she liked, so she got rid of it. This process brought her out of the rapture enough to have another thought, an abberant flicker, a random shard from nowhere. Her hand paused between her legs as she turned it over in her mind musingly.

Why not use her magic instead?

Magic was ever so much more versatile. It could hit all sorts of nerves, all at once, at just the right pace. Better than a human hand could. She was still feeling very calm... well, okay, maybe kind of excited and a little shaky, with an odd lump in her throat, but she was totally in control. She levitated her leotard in the air and made it do a cartwheel to prove it.

She'd never used magic carnally before, not for _that_.

It could be fun.

Why not?

Experimentation as a teenager was perfectly natural, she told herself, and this was a safer form of it than most of the things girls her age were doing.

She stretched out on her bed again, arms deliberately held up over her head and far away from her nether regions, closed her eyes, and muttered with a smirk the words that made all the magic happen.

"Azarath, metrion, zinthos."

She'd told Cyborg once that to manipulate something with her magic, she briefly became it, and it was true. She shared in the object's overall sensations, got a basic feeling of the object's nature and mood. This made using magic on herself a slightly exhilirating, if bizarre experience, like setting two mirrors facing each other. Through the magic she felt what she felt through the magic she felt what she felt through the magic...

Her first attempt at sensual self-manipulation via telekinesis was so delicate due to her uncertainty that she barely felt it, like the faintest brush of a hummingbird's feather. Then she decided it was safe to put a bit more effort in, just a bit, and felt the blackness caress her smoothly, like water with pressure to it, but pressure in all the nicest places. She repressed a grin and repeated the act, a bit firmer still, as rhythmically as any ocean tide, and squirmed with self-satisfied happiness at the sensations. This was going very well so far.

And then another thought struck her. She'd never been able to really penetrate because of the maidenhead, but magic could go right through that and straight to the relevant areas without hurting anything. It would be a bit trickier, a more involved procedure, but worth it, she was sure. One of her less respectable books had mentioned the differences between clitoral and vaginal orgasms and she'd always been intensely curious to find out how that applied to her. Energy expenditure would go up, but by now she was excited enough to not care, and to even embrace the idea of exhausting herself through the exercise.

She was completely relaxed, but somehow at the same time also completely tense, as she spoke the words again, more for ritual's sake than because she needed to. Rituals were important psychological tools.

"Azarath... metrion... zinthos..."

It was much more complicated, delving into her own body and manipulating something unseen. A tiny part of her brain, her inner Robin perhaps, wondered if she could learn anything from this that would be applicable to her healing abilities. But the vast majority of her was caught up in the simple 'physical' act and how it made her feel. It _was_ good. She imagined it was Malchior instead, and that threw her passion into overdrive. It was hurting a little now, the strength and pace of it, but that was somehow good, too.

The orgasm snuck up on her and pounced like a hunting leopard, and for a brief few moments there was nothing to do _but_ feel. Then it was over and she was panting a little, her brain momentarily overwhelmed and unable to command the magic to go for a second one right away.

And yet... the magic was going on.

Confusion was her first reaction, and then self-admonishment. Not being fully aware of her every command over her magic, even the subconscious ones, was shameful. The monks would have berated her sternly for such foolishness. Sins of the flesh, indeed. Her pride and sense of self-discipline both irked, she wrapped mental hands around the magic and urged it to a halt with iron strength.

That it inexplicably did not obey. In fact, it was doing the very opposite of what she commanded. The force and pressure were such now that the initially pleasurable pain was rapidly becoming distinctly uncomfortable.

Quelling a flash of anger at this shameful display, she focused with all her might on cooling her emotions down and fading the magic into nonexistence. Her control was iron, her control was steel. The magic was but an extension of herself, and her control over her self was absolute. She did not doubt this.

It got worse.

Her teeth gritted as she muffled a pained groan, eyes snapping open and body flailing in a manner that would probably have been ridiculous and funny in a different situation. What was going on here?! It wouldn't _stop_!

There was more pressure now, too, growing on her stomach and chest like weights of iron, and she was having trouble breathing. A tiny whimper escaped her throat as the pain grew sharper still, rapidly closing on to knife-like. And yet even through it, she had enough desperate pride for the foremost thought in her mind to be 'Oh God, please don't let one of the others come in and see me like this...'

That was, until she saw glowing red eyes hovering in the air above her, and a flicker of gleaming, smirking fangs just below them.

"No..." she whispered, a futile attempt to deny reality, to destroy a truth too suddenly horrible to accept, like lightning striking down a best friend on a clear day.

"_Yesssss..._" it whispered back at her, not with its mouth, but directly into her mind, as much a violation as anything else it was doing to her. The feel of it was like having her brain caressed with excrement-soaked razors, repulsive and agonizing.

No, no, no, NO!

She was Raven, of the Teen Titans. RAVEN! She'd defeated Malchior! Slade! Motherfucking _Trigon_! She wasn't going to let some pissant wraith of a demon manipulate her own freaking powers into-

Oh _God_, it hurt!

It was fire inside her now, and she rolled to the floor, writhing and clutching herself futilely.

The pain was everything, her whole world now. It allowed her no distraction, no mental foothold to grasp at meditative practices or anything else. She could no more use her own magic than she could have convinced Cyborg to become a vegetarian. Hurting, hating, afraid and ashamed, she let the thing do to her what it would, and waited an eternity for it to end.

And eternity _did_ end, eventually, though not before she bled down her thighs.

Her powers (or could she truly call them hers, after they had been used so grossly by another being?) faded, and the demonic apparition with them, and she was left huddled on the hard floor, curled up against part of her blanket that she'd down with her. She remained like that for a long time, getting her breath back but not being able to stop the shaking, the steady throb in her groin washing over her like a heartbeat of acid.

For one truly mind-blowingly surreal moment, she wondered if this had been how it had happened to her mother. She wondered if her mother had felt the same.

It shouldn't have been possible. Demonic power or not, it shouldn't have been able to happen. She hadn't been repressing anything, her meditation had been perfect, she'd been in total control. And then... total _lack_ of control, for no reason.

Demonic powers, weren't they?

She felt sick, and disgusted, and afraid of herself.

Somehow she had done something wrong, something horribly wrong, and _literally_ fucked herself over.

She couldn't let the others know, of course. She had to work harder, meditate more, train her powers more. They couldn't know. There was no reason to tell them, it would only make them worry, and she couldn't bear to divulge such an awful thing. 'So, making another three-feet-long sandwich, Cyborg? That's pretty phallic, not that I'm saying you're making up for anything you might have lost during your, err, cyborgization, because that would be silly. Yeah, speaking of phallic things, I kinda accidentally raped myself with my own magic. Yeah. Demonic manifestation and all that. So I think I need to work on my mental exercises a whole lot more, and maybe get some therapy, and perhaps visit a gynecologist to make sure nothing's too damaged down there.' Yeah, she could have a conversation like that. Sure. Ugh.

The very thought of even _trying_ to discuss it with Robin, who she knew would completely flip over it, and maybe even make her stop going on missions for 'psychological rehabilitation' or something equally inane, made her skin crawl.

No, they wouldn't know. They didn't have to and nothing good would come of sharing any of it with them. This shame was hers to bear alone.

Sometimes, just sometimes, people really _were_ alone.

She stumbled to her feet and rummaged around for a box of tissues to clean the blood up with. It had gotten on the blanket and her cloak, and would stain horribly unless she used magic to clean it.

Great fear clenched at her chest and squeezed with fingers of ice as she wiped her thighs and crotch gingerly, wincing when the tissue cam in contact with the latter's aching flesh.

She'd clean them later. Later, she didn't have to use the magic right away. She'd just... wait a while, and recover, and rest up.

Meditate.

Meditation would be good.

Except... she didn't feel so very safe in her room anymore. The silence and shade that had once comforted her were now oppressive. So instead of meditating, she threw on a fresh uniform, clutched a random book at her chest without even looking at the title, took a deep breath, and walked out of her room. She held the book open in front of her as she walked, as she often did, but this time her eyes didn't see the words written inside. It was a mask. It was trickery. But it was something she needed to keep herself kind of, sort of, just a tiny little bit calm.

She made her way to the main room. The mess was almost completely cleaned up by now, with just a few suspicious gurgling spots on the floor that Silkie was happy to tend to, and Starfire and Robin were engaged in watching a historical movie of some sort from the couch while Cyborg and Beast Boy leaned on the couch's back and kept up a running commentary on the quality of the acting and special effects. Every few moments, Starfire had a new question for Robin about human culture as presented on television.

It was amicably loud, and everything was well-lit, and oh so very normal. It was everything she'd gotten away from, and she quietly slipped in and sat in a chair nearby, still pretending to read, allowing the meaningless noise of life to rush through her brain and whisk away the horrible thoughts inside.


	2. Part I, Chapter 2

**A bit of a change from the last chapter. I thought the lighter mood would serve as a bit of a mental break; I find stories that get unrelentingly grim and angsty tend to collapse under their own weight. I probably could have just as easily started the story out with this chapter and scared away a lot less people, but meh.**

**The Russian Doll isn't from the comics or anything, I just plain made her up.**

**There is a distinct reference to a different cartoon in this chapter. Be the first person to figure out the ref and the toon and you get a free Skittle. ;)**

Chapter 2: Layers

The latest insane villain of the day was weird, in Cyborg's opinion. Not just weird like most insane villains were weird, but _really_ weird.

For starters, she was robbing... not a bank... not a jewelry store... not even a regular restaurant or a gas station... but an _ice cream store_. And she was leaving the money and taking the friggin' _ice cream_!

Starfire was the first one to recover from the shock and initiate the obligatory witty banter that smalltime villains needed in their diet like other people needed calcium and he needed electricity.

"How dare you deprive the children of this city of the sweet creamed ice!" Then she gasped in horror. "Even the sprinkles! Is your wickedness without limit?!"

It was a little hard to hear Star, but that was probably because there were about two dozen seven-foot tall enormous Russian dolls thumping up and down in the midst of their larcenous deeds. Their bodies split open to engulf container after container of ice cream, incidentally also taking substantial portions of the bar itself. But they were just the minions, probably not even sentient as such. The mistress, clearly identifiable for a more human shape even if made of painted wood the same as the rest, turned to gesture at Star dramatically, presumably about to order her minions to attack.

So Cyborg made a preemptive strike, and cheerfully plastered her to the back wall with his sonic cannon. No sense in always playing the game the way the bad guys wanted it, after all.

Robin was left pouting. "But... I didn't even get to say 'Titans go...'"

"Sorry man, maybe next time," Cyborg apologized with a grin.

"Ugh... you spandex-clad heroes are learning..." the villainess said with a groan, peeling herself out of her woman-shaped indentation. "BUT NOT FAST ENOUGH!" she cackled madly. "NOTHING CAN PREPARE YOU FOR THE MIGHT OF THE-"

Cyborg blasted her back into the wall again with an evil smirk, and the rest of the Titans winced at the distinct sound of splintering wood.

"Dude. Are we allowed to feel sorry for the bad guys?"

"Man, her wooden doll thingies even got all the soy-tofu ice cream," Cyborg commented idly. "Woulda thought for sure they'd have at least left _that_."

"What?! That _fiend_!" Beast Boy waxed full in vegan wrath. "Blast her again, Cy!"

"Hey, I didn't know you knew the word fiend, Beast Boy," Cyborg said with a grin.

"It was in one of Raven's books one of the times I was reading over her should-"

"This indignity will _not_ be tolerated!" the villain snarled, finally arising again, and apparently still unwilling to give herself up. "I am the Russian Doll!" she announced triumphantly, then glared at Cyborg. "And _you_ can go to hell."

"Tsk tsk, language, little ice cream-"

Darkness slammed on Cyborg from above and below as though the world had been replaced by an endless black void.

"-thief?" he ended confusedly.

Reaching out with a hand struck wood.

Great, he was in one of Russian Doll's... Russian dolls.

He could hear the sounds of full-fledged battle just outside his little prison. By the sounds of it, the rest of the minions had joined in on the act, and the villainess wasn't going down easy this time.

"Oh, it's gonna take more than a bit of wood to keep ol' Cy from _this_ fight," he muttered, clenching a fist and slamming it into the wood as hard as he could.

"OW! Man, what kinda wood _is_ this?" he growled, feeling his hand to make sure he hadn't dented the metal. "Okay, fine. You wanna play rough, I can play rough too." He charged up his sonic cannon and let out a blast directly below his feet. All it accomplished was making the cramped confines smell a lot more funky.

"Okay, now, this ain't right," Cyborg opined, just before the doll he was in got knocked over and he was sent rolling dizzily. The rolling went on almost gratuitously long, leading him to wonder if the Titans and the Russian Doll had decided to settle their differences with some sort of 'kick the doll with Cyborg in it' tournament. When he was finally still again, albeit still sideways, Starfire was somehow there too, pressed up against him in the close confines, glowing eyes providing some minor illumination. She giggled embarrassedly and waved with her fingers.

"Oh, hey Star. She got you too huh?"

"Indeed, I regret to admit that I have been gotten," she confessed sorrowfully. She then cracked her knuckles. "However, I expect a hasty ungetting to occur."

"Err, Star, I wouldn't-"

BANG.

"OW!"

"Yeah, that's what happened to me too."

She sniffled until he pulled a bandaid out of one of his inner compartments and stuck it to her knuckle, and then she reverted to her normal cheerful self as if the tiny adhesive bandage had some sort of magical pain-soothing elixir embedded in it.

"Oh, this one has tiny pastel ponies! This is much more attractive than the one with the scary teenaged turtles you gave me last time."

Cyborg chuckled in remembrance; Star had bumped her head on one of her exuberant flights and had consequently went around with Michelangelo on her forehead proclaiming the gnarliness of pizza for a week. Man, cartoons sure were dumb sometimes.

"Energy blasts don't work either," Cyborg explained before Star wasted her energy on useless starbolts.

"I must admit, friend, it mystifies me that a criminal of such petty stature could implement powerful barriers. Where do you think the Doll Of Russian Descent could have gotten such things?"

"Who knows where twobit villains get their junk. Heck, we don't even know where Slade got all his robots. Maybe there's a factory in China somewhere cranking out cheap disposable minions for all the baddies."

"Oh, how terrible!"

There was an awkward silence.

"So... strawberry shampoo today, huh?"

"Oh, yes. Though I know not what a berry of straw might be, the color looked like it would pleasantly complement my hair."

Cyborg blinked. "C'mon, Star, quite playin'. You know what a strawberry is, remember? You watched that special on fruit last night."

She looked innocent... _too_ innocent. "Oh, did I? My apologies friend Cyborg, I must have forgotten."

Cyborg found that doubtful, considering that she'd went on about how 'marvelous' the program had been for almost half an hour afterwards. His one human eye narrowed suspiciously as a new, vaguely unpleasant thought occurred to him.

"Say, Star..."

"Yes, friend?"

"You wouldn't be pretending to be just a little more innocent than you really are, just to wrap us around your little finger, wouldja?"

"I think you are far too large to wrap around one of my fingers, friend Cyborg."

"You know what I mean!"

"I am sure I do not, friend."

"Star, c'mon..."

"What part of I am not knowing what you are speaking of are you not being able to have the comprehension of?" Starfire said very, very blankly while Cyborg paused to let his brain straighten out that giant pretzel of a sentence.

The doll was knocked around again, and actually slide open in the commotion just enough for Starfire to slip out lithely. Cyborg was an instant away from following her when it slammed closed again, taking some of his fingers with it.

"Aww, man. That's it. I'm getting OUT of here if it's the LAST thing I ever DO!" he growled, slamming his palms up against the top in an attempt to make it come off. "What're they gonna say later? Oh, sorry you got stuck in the giant TOY while the rest of us were kickin' evil's butt, Cy! Arrrgh!"

Dammit.

With a sigh, he gave up and slumped down. It was like being in a vitamin capsule. A vitamin capsule made mostly of splinters.

He winced as he heard a small explosion and Robin half groaning, half snarling in angry pain. Hopefully the Russian Doll hadn't gotten ahold on one of Robin's explosive birdarangs. It didn't sound desperately serious, though, just chaotic as all get out. Robin was definitely pissed though.

Heh, it was funny... Robin had been the one to institute a 'no swearing' policy, to uphold the image of spandex-clad superheroism, but he was the one who had the most trouble keeping to that policy. There were lots of times like these when Cyborg could just see the little boy wonder biting back vulgar expletives with all his might. Raven preferred more intellectual language to express herself when she bothered expressing herself at all, Beast Boy and Starfire seemed too innocent for it, and Cyborg himself? Well, he liked to express his anger with nice, wholesome physical violence, with some triumphant gloating thrown in afterwards for good measure. Robin tried so _hard_ to be good, but he always seemed to teeter on the brink... in ways large or small...

The mask didn't help, of course.

Of course, everyone had a few secrets, right? Everyone had just a few they kept to themselves no matter what. Even he had a few.

But there were secrets, and then there were secrets.

Cyborg reached out with his unmaimed hand to stroke the side of the Russian doll, imagining it an onion he could just peel the layers back from. Was Starfire really just pretending to be the way she was? How much of how she acted was the _real_ Starfire? Maybe it had started out one hundred percent real, but gradually she'd changed over time... while not wanting to admit it to them, or change her role in the group's dynamics. It seemed all too probable. Raven was grouchier than she needed to be even with the excuse of requiring meditation and emotional distance, because after all if she admitted to some positive emotions on a regular basis, or God forbid had _fun_, then she'd never hear the end of it. Beast Boy was lazy and messy, and why not? People would clean up his messes for him. And then there was the regular carnivore versus vegan arguments, of course, for which Cyborg himself had his fair share of blame. How much of it all was really real, and how much of it was just an act, comforting for its familiarity?

Maybe the Puppet King had been right to turn them into puppets, if all they were doing was playing their roles, anyway. Not growing, not changing, just _being_.

"Man, I think too much," Cyborg said self-mockingly. "Gonna take over Raven's job and drown in my own aura of emo if I keep this up."

Worrying about what was real and what wasn't was for smart people with too much time on their hands. He had a job to do. He braced his back up against the top of the doll, and planted his feet firmly on the bottom, and strained with all his might. After a solid minute of exertion, he felt parts of his body start to give way, but fortunately at the same time the doll gave way as well, snapping off with a reluctant groan. He was out of that tiny little prison and back in the fight scene, blinking and rubbing his eyes to get his vision to adjust.

"Wow... y'all sure made a mess," he commented, looking around at the devastation. The only things left mostly in one piece at this point were the walls, the Russian Doll and her cohorts, and the Titans themselves.

"RAAAHHH!" the Russian Doll screeched, apparently driven into a frothy berserker rage at this point. "I AM FILLED WITH TINIER WOMEN!" And her waist split upon by a hinge to prove it, a second smaller duplicate climbing out, and then that one split open to reveal a _third_, and then there was a _fourth_...

Okay, he could see where this was going.

"All of which I can plaster," Cyborg quipped cheerfully, and proved it by blowing them all into the same wall he'd blown the Russian Doll into the first time with a generous sweep of his sonic cannon. The Russian Dolls groaned and collapsed, apparently out of the fight for good, while the minion Russian dolls stuttered to a stop, somehow managing to look sheepish despite lacking the ability to make expressions.

"Dude, I wish you'd done that like three minutes ago," Beast Boy complained, holding his ice cream-covered head in his hands. "I have the _worst_ case of brain freeze right now."

"Oh, relax beansprout. We'll get Silkie to kiss it all better when we're back home."

"Gross, bug slobber. I'd rather have Raven wipe it off with her feet!"

"Oh, I bet you would," Cyborg couldn't resist saying, even though he knew Raven would smack him for it.

_Whack._

"_OW!_ DUUUUUDE! Why'd you smack _ME_? _HE_ said it!"

Cyborg blinked, shrugged, and grinned. Sometimes he just got lucky.

"Force of habit," Raven explained unceremoniously, sidestepping a puddle of whipped cream on her way back to the car.


	3. Part I, Chapter 3

**Just to head off any questions or suspicions people might have, I am not a Raven/Robin 'shipper as such. I think they are a very practical couple, the sort of couple that could happen and succeed frequently in real life... but not a very interesting couple to write about in the long term. So no, this won't be the turn of a whole lengthy Raven/Robin relationship thing. The possibility is fun to explore briefly just to shake things up, but ultimately I feel that Robin and Starfire work better together because they contrast each other well to make writing their scenes fun, while at the same time having a reasonable amount of common ground so they're not fighting constantly like Raven and Beast Boy are. If I were to write only about the sort of things that happen in real life, this would be both a very depressing and a very boring story.**

Chapter 3: Trust

Tamaranian sweat smelled the same as human sweat, but for some reason Robin actually _enjoyed_ Starfire sweating, which was something he couldn't say about anyone else on the team. The workout was made all the better, knowing that he could, in his own way, push her to her limits. Of course, he couldn't hope to match her for raw power... that was why they were having doing modified target practice instead of, say, wrestling. With the targets being each other, and the ammo being a sack of rubber birdarangs on Robin's side, and firefly-weak sparks of starbolts on Starfire's side. It was more fun when the target was moving, Batman had always opined, and Robin agreed with his old mentor in that area, at least.

Although, now that he thought of it, some form of holds-very-much-barred wrestling _would_ be... fun...

"Ow!" he winced, clutching at his suddenly-stinging nose and scowling. That lapse in concentration could _not_ be repeated if he wanted to get the upper hand in this match.

"Oh, Robin, I am most sorry to have struck you in the face, I was aiming for your glenpraq, I hope you are unharmed?"

Robin grinned, recovering from the pins-and-needles sensation, and covertly palming a birdarang in each hand to counterattack. "You're still hesitating a little. Throw them faster."

Starfire's adorably abbreviated eyebrows rose in surprise, and then she grinned to match his own. She might have had a gentle heart, but she had a warrior's spirit to back it up.

"HAAA!"

The starbolt was, as expected, large, bold, and easily-dodged, the trajectory having been loudly announced by the alien's posture. On the other hand, the barrage of smaller starbolts she'd somehow managed to conceal behind the first one were _not_ expected, particularly not the way they spiralled around unpredictably, and Robin had to abandon any plans of attacking back for the moment to go into a defensive roll and dodge them all. He felt a brief burst of pride for her. She knew accuracy wasn't a strong point, so she'd made up for it with rapidity of attacks. It was a simple but effective tactic: throw enough stuff in the air and some of it is bound to hit. Of course, there was also collateral damage to... consider...

Crap.

Some of the starbolts had found their way to his sack of birdarangs and scattered them far and wide over the gymn floor. Now he wouldn't have to retreat back to the same spot to replenish ammo, but he wouldn't be able to pick up large amounts of them at one time, either. He'd have to grab new ones almost constantly now.

He mentally designated his left hand as birdarang-picker-upper and his right as birdarang-thrower, and in the first few moments took advantage of the scattered ammo to score a few hits on Star's thighs and stomach. Her squeals of indignation, along with the aches in his muscles, softened his resolve to continue on, though. So instead of making a more serious move, he leaped towards her theatrically, a birdarang held high and aimed at her forehead, while he made one of various kung fu fighting sounds (that he would never, _ever_ let anyone else know he had learned mostly from watching wuxia movies...). The birdarang paused an inch from her forehead, and then gently tapped her.

"Hmph! You are one to talk of hesitation!" Starfire said mock-angrily through a giggle, then pushed him playfully.

Playfully for Star, anyway, which meant that he flew about fifteen feet back and slammed into the (fortunately padded) wall.

"Yeah, I owe you waaaay more hits than that," Robin muttered dizzily, waiting for his vision to settle down again.

"Oh?" Star... well, _cooed_, at him, stepping closer. Robin was suddenly nervous. "Perhaps we should find a way for you to repay your debt of physical contact, yes?"

Was she batting her lashes at him?! She _was_! Where had she learned to do that?! No one in this tower was feminine enough to teach her to do that! It wasn't _fair_!

He was still stumbling for words, and sweating profusely for reasons other than physical exhaustion, when she leaned her body lightly against his, face tilted slightly in a feather-delicate nuzzle.

"Of course... if you wish to rest first, I can allow 'the interest' to build up instead of insisting on repayment that is immediate..."

"Uh, uh, y-yeah, sure, l-let's do that," Robin stammered, feeling like an idiot. God, she was beautiful. Too beautiful for him. He didn't know what to do with her when she got like this. And it had been happening more and more ever since the Tokyo Incident. Not that he could really say he hated it. But... change was hard.

Hard, but worth a try.

"Careful about letting it build up too long, though," Robin replied, giving it his best to flirt back. "You know what they say about pressure..."

Star looked devilishly happy at his willingness to engage in the playfulness for a change. It occurred to Robin, a little unnervingly, that he'd seen a similar look on her face when she'd gone back to her home planet, when she'd been staring at a table of Tamaranian food soon to be eaten.

"I am afraid that I am still a stranger to many of the sayings of your world. What do they say about... pressure?" she murmured a little huskily, leaning into him just a tiny bit more. A very tiny bit, but the very fact that it was so little, yet so deliberate, was somehow in and of itself a turn on.

Robin's inner dialogue writer unfortunately chose that moment to shut down, and there was a brief silence broken only by their slightly heavy breaths for air as he frantically tried to think of some way to carry through to a punchline or climax. Climax. Yeah. That was... that was probably the wrong word to be thinking of right now.

Star suddenly eeped and leaned back a step, giggling as she directed her gaze downwards.

"Oh, is _that_ what you wished to speak of involving the pressure, Robin? It seems that Tamaranians and humans are not so different in some respects after all, I am glad to see..." And then she dissolved into more giggles, face almost half as red as Robin's own.

He frantically tried to straighten his pants out and change his posture, but the problem with wearing tight clothes was that they didn't conceal much of anything. So he did the best thing he could do, and wrapped his cape around himself and stared at the wall while muttering a flustered apology, hoping she wouldn't think him too much of a pervert.

"There is... there is no need to be sorry, Robin," she finally said after her laughter died down to a more subdued teehee. She paused a moment, and then her voice suddenly came more hesistantly, bashfully. "I am... I am _glad_ that... I am attractive to you... in that way..."

"Starfire, I've never met anyone more beautiful than you," he blurted out sincerely. "You're, you're like something out of a magazine or a dream or something, but _real_."

She looked up at him, embarrassment forgotten. "Truly?"

"Truly."

She remembered not to cut off his breathing when she hugged him.

"Well... I think we've had enough practice for today," Robin declared. It wasn't like they were going to be able to concentrate anymore anyway. At least, not on what they _should_ be concentrating on.

They didn't really want to relinquish each other's company just yet, so they sat down relaxedly on the floor, backs propped against the wall. Not touching, but... close. Comfortably close.

She felt so warm. Robin wondered if all people were that warm, and he'd just never been lingeringly close enough to them to really notice. Batman and Alfred hadn't been the hugging types. Or maybe it was just Tamaranians?

Star toyed with one of the birdarang's idly. "Robin?"

"Yeah, Star?"

"Why does this floppy rubber throwing projectile have the words 'Made in China' on it?"

Aww, crud. Well, he was just gonna have to come out and admit it now.

"Well, they're kind of... toys... I bought for training, back when there was a sale and they were dirt cheap," he confessed.

"Robin! I am elated to find that you still have a grip that is firm on your subcutaneous offspring! Are your other wonderous items and tools also the playing things of children from the China?"

"No! Just these, because I couldn't get my supplier to make me so many training tools. He thought it was frivolous." Robin couldn't help himself. He knew he shouldn't have said that much, it would only make her wonder more, but she was so easy to talk to it was insane. Sometimes it was all he could do not to rip his mask off and scream his birth name at her when she smiled at him in the morning.

"Oh. Who is your supplier?" she asked innocently. Like he _knew_ she would. He tried to think of a way to answer the question without _really_ answering it, so she'd be satisfied without any real secrets being given away.

"A friend of mine in Gotham. He takes his business very seriously."

"More seriously than you, Robin?"

"Well... let me put it this way. You know how we play video games, and volleyball, and chess, and sometimes go out to the park when the weather's nice, and stuff like that?"

"Yes! And I love all those things so dearly! Except for when Beast Boy tries to do the flirting with girls at the park. That is just hurtful to watch."

Hah, it _was, _too. Robin repressed a smirk.

"Well, Ba- um, my _supplier_, he doesn't really do things like that very much. Mostly, he does a bare minimum of things to make himself look normal to outside observers. He doesn't usually devote much time or energy to just having fun."

Star seemed simultaneously awed and depressed by the concept. "That is a horrible way to live. Your supplier sounds like a very hard person."

"He's strong," Robin said quietly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

"So is stone." She sighed and dropped the birdarang, a hand flipping strands of her hair instead. He found the silky shine of it almost hypnotic. "Is it because of this supplier that you do not remove your mask?" she asked so quietly he could barely hear her.

This was as nervewracking as the early situation had been, just in a completely different way. There was nothing fun or exciting about this.

"Y-... n-... I don't know," Robin finally said, wavering between answers before settling on the only one that really fit. "He's been... a big influence on me. I... owe him a lot."

"I have read of this Gotham in the black, white, and gray paper stacks organized according to days," Star changed the subject ever so slightly, and he blessed her for it. "The paper stacks say many bad things of Gotham, even if it is a large and glorious place. They say it is in the recession, that there are many frightful lunatics that escape to harm innocent people very often, that the smoke and other things the pipes of the factories put out have made the sky red. It sounds like a place that is hard, too."

"Yeah, I guess it is. Hard... cold... dark... and grimy. You never really feel _clean_ there. While I was there, I felt like a predator. Something grim. And the people I captured were often like a kind of prey... scared and confused and cornered. I didn't like it. That's why I came here. I love Jump. It's a good city. It's a _clean_ city."

"It is a bright and affirming of the life city," Star agreed. "I am glad to know you are happy where you are, Robin. But... perhaps someday... you could share some of the darker things with me? My name has fire in it, but I am not afraid of the dark."

He never loved her more than the moment in which she said that, and he couldn't even figure out why. He just did.

"I don't think I even need to, Star." He hastened to explain before her feelings were hurt. "It's not that I don't trust you to tell you things like that, it's just that I'd rather not think about them anymore. Gotham helped shape me as I grew... but I'm not there anymore, and I don't want to go there ever again. If I told you a lot about Gotham I'd just be telling you depressing things that don't matter anymore, and why waste time with that when we can just be happy?"

"Oh." She sounded a little disappointed, but only a little. He hoped she wouldn't be very hurt by it and keep it to herself, like she had with a few other things. She _sounded_ fine... but he could never totally read her. To Robin, Starfire always had a little bit of mystery in her. "Very well, dearest Robin! I shall respect your wishes and ask of the unimportant unpleasant past things no longer." Her voice perked up, and she floated in midair an inch in emphasis, which particularly relieved Robin. She couldn't fly if she was just _pretending_ to be happy, after all. He hoped. "I believe I will go and have the shower now, I am feeling most unclean."

"Okay, Star. Have a good one." He smiled, and waved, and did his best not to imagine her showering.

His best was _not_ very good.

"Keep those thoughts g-rated, Robin," Raven said from nowhere, and he freaked out. Managing to figure out that she had somehow appeared right next to him did barely anything to alleviate his nervousness.

"Uh, h-hey Raven, where did you come from?" he stammered in his very best casual, nothing-strange-going-on voice.

"I felt like working out, so I phased down through the ceiling. The only reason I don't do it more often is because I don't like catching people off guard when they're doing something they shouldn't be."

"Oh, well that's certainly not the case here! Heheh. I was just getting through some training with Starfire..."

"I'm sure." Her tone was even dryer than usual for Raven.

Well, at least she hadn't come around a few minutes before, when things would have been even _more_ embarrassing to explain.

"Well, I'll get out of your way then, have a good time..."

"So you'll practice solo with Starfire, but not with me?" The words were totally blank, but they still enveloped him in guilt.

"No, no, it's just that I didn't think you'd want anyone, and I'm a little worn out, and..."

"I can't do _everything_ alone. If our noble leader will spare just a little of his time, I'll promise to be gentle."

The sarcasm and smirk helped to counterbalance the unRaven-like request and help Robin find his mental balance, and he nodded in acquiescence. "You're right, I really _should_ spend more time with each member of the team in paired training. I need to try harder to be impartial. So what are you in the mood for?"

"How about some light no-weapons sparring?"

Again, a little unusual, but not completely unheard of... Raven did keep herself fit with periodic exercise and some basic hand to hand maneuvers, even if she focused the vast majority of her energies on mental training. Robin decided to enjoy the quirky day for what it was, and threw himself into the duel with enthusiasm. At first he held himself back, uncertain how seriously his opponent wanted to take things, but that was quickly changed after she landed a number of _hard_ kicks and punches on him. She was faster and stronger than he'd thought, by a lot, even if her form seemed much more sloppy today for some reason. She was a surging fire, swift, sudden violent strikes, against his flowing water, smooth defensive stances, dodges, blocks and counterstrikes, and they were holding about even with each other for the moment. He knew he shouldn't let himself be distracted, but somehow he couldn't resist locking eyes with her, maybe because her expression seemed so much more intense than usual. Blank, but with strain behind it. She didn't even seem to be _blinking_, but that had to be his imagination.

And the strangest thing of all that was throughout it all she kept _talking_. Making casual conversation through the pants and grunts, not like she really wanted or even expected a real reply, but just because she seemed to enjoy voluntarily talking for a change. There was no pressure on him to keep up any banter in turn, and because of that it didn't keep him from performing his best, while at the same time letting him enjoy the uncharacteristic stream of words. He'd never heard her so sociable before, it was amazing, even if there was a little bit of a hard edge at the back of her voice from the physical exertion. She'd even reversed her previous opinion on the Wolf Brigade movie she'd made them all watch last week. Back then she'd said it was an for some reason now she seemed to agree with Beast Boy's opinion on the movie, which was that it had been boring and confusing, and needed some _real_ wolves. It was the only time he could ever remember her agreeing with Beast Boy on the merits of a movie, and the fact that she'd totally reversed her opinion from one to the other was especially amusing.

"I can't really blame you for... not wanting to... train with the others as much," she said at one point. "There's no- ugh! No easy way to train someone with flexible powers, like me or Beast Boy."

"I'm glad you-argh! Feel comfortable expressing a positive opinion of him... you didn't always-gah! Feel like that."

"When you think... about it, he's really the most powerful of us, no question."

Robin was sufficiently caught off guard by that that he actually paused and raised both eyebrows incredulously, which resulted in him getting a teeth-ringing kick in the jaw.

"Think about it," Raven almost snapped while trying to sweep his feet out from under him, a move he dodged with a careful leap backwards. "He can turn into anything that's-grah, an animal, right?! Who decides what an... animal is, anyway?! Everyone's an animal to someone, so he could be anything... he really _wanted_ to be." A flurry of blows aimed at his face left him no time or space to do anything other than block repeatedly, driven back step by step. Her gaze was so focused it was almost scary. "And he can multiply... infinitely, when he's germ-sized... and how many people are prepared... to combat a deadly disease?! The only reason he's not... the most powerful person in the world... is because he doesn't let himself _think_... about these things! He's content in his little... place in life!"

Well, _that_ was certainly something worth thinking about, but he couldn't exactly devote much energy to the concept while he was being beaten black and blue.

"Wow, I'd never thought about-ugh! It that way before... Raven! Okay, I think we've had enough... sparring for now..."

She was just beginning a kick when he finished the statement, and he knew that momentum didn't stop instantaneously, but even so, he was surprised when the kick landed full force... in his crotch.

"AUGH!"

He collapsed into a brave new world that revolved wholly around the sensation of intense burning between his legs.

"Robin! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"I... know... it's... okay..." he muttered through gritted teeth, trying not to cry. "I'm... fine..." Oh, he'd never told a bigger lie. Not even the time he'd told Starfire her bowl of fresh-stewed plagutruq was delicious.

"Let me heal you, okay?"

If there was ever anything anyone anywhere could have said to actually cause Robin's brain to break like a pane of glass hit with a sledgehammer, that would have been it.

The concept was so bewildering to him that at first he couldn't even understand it, then he realized what she meant and the full implications involved, and found that he had _plenty_ of room through the pain to panic. Oh, yes. Tons of room.

"N-no... that's... okay... really... I'm alright..."

"You're hunched over like your back's made of Jell-O. You are _not_ fine. Stop the stupid macho man act and just let me make you better."

He tried to hobble away, with a vague idea of finding a medicine cabinet and something that would drug him out of his mind to dull the pain, but she was following him, and easily kept ahead. Finally she grabbed one of his shoulders and he just didn't have the presence of mind, between pain and exhaustion, to move any further after that.

When she cupped his crotch, he couldn't really do anything but close his eyes and pray for a swift, merciful death from a benevolent God.

The hand remained there for what seemed like forever.

And then he realized it wasn't just seeming like forever, it actually was staying there a really, _really_ long time. The pain was starting to subside, but he wasn't sure if that was her healing at work or just the pain wearing off naturally.

"I'm sorry, I'm too tired to heal as quickly as usual," Raven said in a more usual monotone. He grasped onto that monotone, that semblance of normalcy, with all the desperation of a half-drowned man in wintery, shark-infested waters who has just seen shore.

"That's completely okay," he said just as blankly, carefully keeping his eyes fixed on somewhere, anywhere, but where her hands were.

Her hands really were small and gentle...

Okay, bad thoughts, bad thoughts, _bad_ thoughts! He should be thinking about the cracks on the ceiling. Yes! They would need to be painted or something! Maybe they could use a different color when they repainted it, just for fun. Of course there'd be a hard time deciding on the right color...

...Was that little rubbing motion she was doing with the pads of her fingers part of the healing?!

"Heh, whoever would've thought we'd end up like this, huh?" Raven murmured softly, her eyes drifting to the floor.

"W-well there's been... weirder things that've happened... but not many," Robin babbled as he sweated.

This was _so_ wrong, on so many levels.

And then it just got infinitely wronger, as Raven suddenly kissed him, hard, and raked her nails down the inside of his thighs. He made a muffled sound of confusion and backed away, but she followed all the quicker, eyes wide and hungry. And then he was up against the wall, and there was nowhere to retreat to.

"Raven... what are you-mmpphh..."

The kiss had tongue in it this time, and her body was pinning his just as Starfire's had earlier, and her nails were going to leave marks on his sides, if the pressure was any indication.

"You think you want the light, but inside you're begging for the dark," she broke the kiss to whisper huskily, almost hissing. "And I'm darker than you'll ever know..." The kiss was renewed with a fervency that left him trembling with what might have been fear, or something else entirely.

It wasn't that he hadn't recognized Raven as being attractive, in her own way. It was just that he'd never given much thought to the concept of her a woman beyond that. She didn't really encouraged that kind of thinking anyway, with her bookish tendencies and deadpan voice and generally gloomy, antisocial nature. But she was serious, and competent, and very practical, and given to sarcasm in her humor whenever she bothered to make a quip... in fact, she had more in common with him, personalitywise, than Starfire, and it made him wonder why he'd never thought of her this way before.

True, she'd never made his heart race this way before, not till just _now_, even if Starfire had, but Starfire...

Starfire!

He... he didn't know if he loved her, but he liked her a _lot_, and she was like sunshine into his dreary world. And they had kissed already! This was wrong, what he was doing with Raven... what she was doing to him... no, it wasn't just _her_ hands that were roaming now, and his tongue was certainly doing some interesting things to hers... and it was wrong, so wrong.

Then she bit him on the neck roughly, and it was such an intense, unexpected, and erotic action that it actually broke him out of his daze of conflicted emotions and he pushed her away sharply. Well, okay, maybe he waited just a moment longer than he should have, but _still_! He put his foot down! Sort of.

"R-Raven..." he gasped, trying to gather his thoughts, trying to think of a way to tell her that yes, that had been fun, and yes, he was flattered, and okay, maybe even in another world that sort of thing could keep happening, but not when he already had something with Starfire, dammit!

And as if thoughts had the power to summon the objects of their attentions, Starfire's gasp echoed through the gymnasium like a pistol shot. As soon as he heard the sound, Robin knew that he'd screwed everything up, that nothing would be the same again. He'd been a bad leader and made a clusterfuck of things, it was all his fault, he _knew_ it.

But he still had to look into her eyes.

_Their_ eyes.

Starfire's, _and_ Raven's.

Starfire looked horrified and shocked, a towel wrapped around her damp hair. Raven looked... blank. Very, very blank. Except for the tiny upward twitch at the corner of her lips, which was probably due to hysteria. It was a miracle nothing was telekinetically exploding at the moment.

He mentally cursed her when the half-demon was engulfed with black energy more suddenly and thoroughly than usual, and phased down through the floor, making a retreat and leaving him to explain what the hell had been going on. Which was difficult, considering that _he_ hadn't much idea what the hell had been going on in the first place!

"Star... I'm sorry... I know this looks bad, but I didn't mean..."

"_YOU HAVE HER TEETH MARKS ON YOUR NECK!_" Starfire burst out, and then ran off weeping as dramatically as any soap opera character could have ever managed. He hadn't known that Tamaranians could actually cry fullblown miniature waterfalls of tears, but then, he still wasn't sure how Starfire fit nine stomachs into her petite torso, either.

For about a minute, Robin remained in the room alone, in silence.

"Shit," he finally said, knowing that there was no one to hear him say it, the single word expressing all his confusion and misery and frustration in the one syllable.


	4. Part I, Chapter 4

**This seems as good a place and time as any to mention that I feel a little uncertain with my grasp of Starfire's dialogue. If anyone has any tips or suggestions along those lines, feel free to speak your mind. I'm not scared to edit chapters. In fact, I've replaced every chapter so far (including this one, heh), correcting minor spacing errors and whatnot. Also, if any of you have sources for Tamaranian phrases, I could so use some.**

Chapter 4: Loss

Initial fury and grief had, after a few hours of crying, subsided into deep depression. She clutched Silkie in her arms, rocking back and forth on her bed slightly, and tried so hard _not_ think, but thoughts came anyway.

She'd been stupid to think Robin cared for her the way she did for him. He'd never really been comfortable expressing himself around her... and now he had Raven. Raven, who was so much more like him than _she_ was! Dark and secretive! They even shared the five-letter names of birds starting with the letter R. She had been so very idiotic to have never seen it before. She remembered the hug Raven and Robin had shared back when they defeated Trigon... the way they looked at each other... she had thought nothing of it at the time, but _now_ she knew what it all had meant.

"Oh, my little bumgorf, how could they do this to me," she whispered lifelessly to Silkie, craddling him as though he were the only thing left in the world to love. And maybe he was. "I hate them. They are treacherous and not worthy of being called friends... I hate them so much..."

But no, that wasn't true. She knew it wasn't true even as she spoke the words. She loved them both, Raven as a sister and Robin as a wonderful, handsome, intelligent man, and there was nothing she could do to make herself stop caring for them. They'd been through too much together, they were like a family. That was why it hurt so much. Running away was tempting, but it was the coward's way out. She'd tried that before, several times, and it never really worked out. No, she had learned from those experiences. It wouldn't take an encounter with a Cironielian Chrysalis Eater to bring her wisdom this time. She knew deep in her heart that the only thing to do was to do the most painful thing of all. To accept the pain, to live with it, and to forgive her friends and let them be happy together.

Yes, that was the only thing to do.

She sniffled, blew her nose on a thousandth tissue, and wiped her face. She would go now and find Raven or Robin, and tell them she understood and that she would not stand between them.

She would go to Raven first. She'd ran off so quickly,without even a word... she must be drowning in guilt, Starfire surmised. Good friends didn't let each other feel bad. She would tell Raven it was okay, that Robin belonged to no one but who he wished to belong to, and then they would share a hug and cry together.

No, on second thought, Raven crying would be, to use the Earth expression, just plain freaky. They would just meditate together or do some other quiet activity to bond.

It wasn't even necessarily a bad thing, this happening... no, it could be the start of a whole new joyous growing process and deepening friendship with her teammates. That was what she told herself, over and over, as she walked through the tower halls, acutely aware that she could not bring herself to flutter in the air even as much as a darflingian krugax at blorspurten.

She stopped at Raven's door and stared at it, straightening her hair nervously. Raven always retreated to her room when she felt vulnerable. She said the solitude was soothing. But friends had to help soothe too. Friends were important. More important than boyfriends, _much_ more.

She rapped gingerly at the door. The doorway to the afterlife itself did not look much scarier, at the moment.

"Whoever's there, come in but be quiet about it," Raven called, sounding tired.

So she stepped into Raven's room, reluctantly letting the door close behind her. The lighting was dim with the door shut, and the shadows cast by random unindentifiable objects were positively frightful.

Raven was sitting in front of her dresser, building a small pyramid from playing cards with slow, careful movements. She'd only gotten as far as the second level. Starfire wondered why she felt the need to do such a thing.

"What..."

"After the rabbit ordeal with Mumbo, I became a little curious about parlor and stage magic," Raven explained without looking away from the cards. "Card tricks and common illusions." Two more cards were placed precariously on top. "All junk... not real... mostly suggestions in presentation. But... good for focusing thoughts... and passing time. I, I can't seem to clear my mind to meditate today. So I thought I'd try this instead. It's a beginner's exercise... to develop hand-eye coordination."

The stammer was small but noticeable. Raven _never_ stammered, or hesitated, or fumbled her words. Starfire's heart surged out to the girl, her sister in spirit if not in blood. Raven had to be hurting, too.

"Remind me to throw Beast Boy into the ocean sometime today," Raven went on idly. "I keep finding the word 'trickster' scribbled over the joker cards in green ink. No one else has that kind of sloppy handwriting. It's a stupid idea for a joke, though. Even for him."

Another card was placed, but it was the last one, for the pyramid promptly collapsed under the weight. Raven lowered her head with a sigh.

"That always happens," she muttered, drawing her hood up over her head.

"You seem most sad today," Starfire said gently, trying to lead slowly into That Which Should Not Be Talked About But Had To Be Talked About.

Raven finally turned to face her, eyes peering from beneath the shadows of her hood. "I'm fine. What's up?"

Starfire winced. Raven wasn't going to make this easy. Well, okay, she'd just have to come out and _say_ it then. She took a deep breath in preparation.

"I was unaware that you and Robin had 'the thing' for each other. I am sorry to have gotten in the way and wish you to be happy together, and for us all to remain friends."

Raven's only visible change in expression was a blink. "What are you talking about?"

Why was she making this so _hard_?! It was difficult enough as it was! Raven had to face up to things too, it couldn't all be _her_ burden! Starfire's teeth clenched involuntarily in frustrated anger before she made her jaw relax.

"Please, Raven, there is no need to hide it any longer. I saw you and Robin making the out. I understand and accept this and wish you to know I hold no ill feelings towards either of you for it."

"Starfire, I don't know what you _think_ you saw, but I've barely even talked to Robin today. And I'm pretty sure I haven't touched him in a week. And I've _definitely_ never, _ever_ made out with him."

It wasn't _fair_! Here she was, trying to do the right thing, and this, this... she hadn't even a _word_ for her... was trying to pretend like nothing had even happened! Was she so ashamed of it that she couldn't even admit to the truth?! Righteous fury welled up deep inside, and her eyes illuminated the room in green while her throat suddenly tasted of bile.

"No!" she shouted emphatically, pushed to her limit. "No more of the lying! No more of the hiding! I know what I saw and you will _not_ pretend that it did not happen! I may be often confused by this planet, but despite what you are apparently thinking, I am not _stupid_!" Tears almost as hot as her starbolts flowed down her cheeks, and she didn't even bother to wipe them. She couldn't even if she'd wanted to, anyway, her hands were glowing now too. She tried to talk more, but the words wouldn't come through her choked throat, so she ran out the door and away, ignoring the sounds of telekinetic chaos coming from Raven's room. So she'd finally upset Raven after all. _Good_. She _deserved_ it. She hoped Raven's out of control emotions were tearing apart every book and statuette and strange magical device in the room.

Robin wouldn't be so cruel, Robin knew when to confess to mistakes. Robin would understand, and admonish Raven for being so foolish and hurtful. She would go to Robin and talk to him and everything would make some sort of sense again.

She was too blinded by tears to even notice Cyborg before she bumped into him, but she kept on walking.

"Whoa! Hey, Star, careful there!" he called out to her back. "Hey! Hey, is something the matter? Star? Didn't you like the bandaid I gave you?!" he hollered out as she was almost beyond hearing.

"I do not know what band of aid you are speaking of!" she yelled back, too self-involved to take the time to figure out what he was talking about or tell him what was going on. He could find out later. From someone else. Maybe _Raven_ would tell her. That four-eyed treacherous, spread-legged, witchy_ clorbag varblernelk_...

Oh, X'Hal, she hated and loved Raven at the same time.

It took her much longer to find Robin, and her tiring legs didn't help her temper. Finally she crossed paths with him while he was rushing through the halls in a similar frantic fashion, apparently doing the same thing she was, looking for someone to talk to about the whole thing.

"Robin! It is good to see you. We have things we must speak of," she said with careful formality. There was no need to take out all her extra anger on Robin. Or any anger at all, really. That would just make it worse. Nevertheless, she couldn't quite help the hard bite to her words.

"Star! I'm so glad I've found you, I've been looking for you everywhere! I don't know what-"

"Please stop," Starfire interrupted him evenly. "I have attempted to do the talking with Raven, but she pretends that what clearly happened did not happen. But I know you will not lie to me, Robin. I saw you two together making the out, and I wish you both happiness together, but please do not tell me it did not happen." There, that wasn't so bad. She didn't even cry.

"Star, I swear I don't know _how_ it happened, it was just out of nowhere! It was like being jumped by a lion or something! What do you mean she said it didn't happen, though?"

She felt an unusual sliver of emotion, a tiny tendril of disgust towards Robin for trying to play innocent of his part in it. She'd seen what had happened, Robin had been pleased and doing things with _his_ hands, too! It wouldn't be so hard, well, it would be _less_ hard, if they both just admitted it, but, no, they both had to evade guilt like cowards.

"I mean what I said. She says it did not happen," Starfire growled, closing her eyes and trying to force herself into being calmer so her eyes wouldn't glow.

For a bit, there was quiet.

"Of course..." Robin said with the voice of one undergoing an epiphany. "I _understand_ now. It all makes sense! Raven was acting so strange... but now I get it! _IT WAS SLADE_!"

Starfire's lids flew up so fast they probably broke the speed of light.

"Are you broke in your head?" she demanded incredulously. "You are saying that _Slade_ was the one doing the making out with you?!"

"No, Star, hear me out! Raven was acting completely out of character! And doing things to fragment the team! But it obviously _wasn't_ Raven, because she would never act that way! So it must have been one of Slade's robots! He can make robots that look enough like real human beings to fool anyone. He just made a very specialized model this time. This is _completely_ his M.O."

"And I suppose this robot was made to feel like a person too as well as look like one, Robin?" she asked, eyes narrowed. He stammered and paused at that, clearly caught in the idiocy of his transparent, feeble excuse. "Or did you do the making out with a person that felt like cold metal? Right before this cold metal person flew through the floor without use of the dark magic?"

"N-now look, Star, I know it may seem far-fetched, but Slade is the most underhanded and cunning villain we've ever faced and he's still at large, we can't understimate-"

"The only thing I have underestimated is your lack of honor," Starfire hissed at him, overcome with revulsion. Suddenly she couldn't stand to look at him, and wheeled around, walking aimlessly, anywhere was a better place than being close to _him_.

"Star, wait, Star, please-"

She turned a corner blindly, and found herself face to face with a dozen black and orange steel masks.

She barely had time to mutter half of a Tamaranian curse in surprise, before one of them reached out with a sparking, humming hand, and sent waves of irresistable, jolting pain through her body, causing it to jerk helplessly like a puppet on arguing strings. By the time she collapsed to the floor she couldn't even feel the sensation of the fall.

She heard Robin scream her name, and then simply scream.

And then the dark came.


	5. Part I, Chapter 5

**I feel that this chapter is pretty much the ultimate end result of the evolution of Slade, as depicted in the cartoon. Sure, it may possibly be uncharacteristic for his comic book equivalent (I'm not positive, having never read the comics, just heard things of 'em)... but in the cartoon, you just know they would have played it this way, if they'd been aiming for an adult audience from the start. They went pretty darn close to playing it this way even so, in a few scenes. Yes, you know the ones I'm talking about.**

**Wow, I didn't mean for this chapter to come out so big. I guess that's the BB fan in me coming out... plus, the point it occupies in the story is pretty climactic so I couldn't skimp on it or break it up easily. I'm actually trying to be fairly evenhanded in povs here... guess I need to try harder, hmm?**

**I wrote this while listening to the closing credits song for Jin-Roh, and by the time you're done reading it, you'll know why, too.**

Chapter 5: Love

Beast Boy returned from a relaxing seagull flight to find that there was a neat ten-foot hole carved through the ground floor wall of the tower.

"Dudes? What's going on? Why is there a hole in our home?" he called out, hoping that it wasn't the work of some lame bad guy with no sense of personal space.

"Duuuuudes?!"

The total silence was freaky. He morphed into a bloodhound and sniffed with all his might around the hole. There was barely any scent to it at all... the smell of burnt metal, mostly, from whatever had cut the hole. Metal, more metal, a little oil maybe... and faintly, he caught whiffs of each of his friends, wafting through the air. Very tiny traces, though. They hadn't been hanging around the hole long. They'd just passed through it, on their way to someplace else.

Jinkies, there was a mystery afoot! He had to get his Sherlock Holmes cap and bubble pipe!

His friends had obviously ran off after the vandal, but why not call him about it? Maybe they just didn't think it was enough trouble to be worth getting him. It was probably some real dumb thug with a laser thingy that he didn't know how to use, that was it. Anyone had to be dumb to vandalize the Titans' tower.

He should probably just follow their scents before they faded, and catch up as quickly as he could. But, just to make sure, it was probably a good idea to check quickly for any other clues. Heck, for all he knew, the hole thingy could've just been a distraction while some other creep robbed the tower! He couldn't let the team down, he had to cover all the bases. Morphing into a rabbit, he hopped a little ways inside, listening intently for any unusual sounds.

The only thing he heard... was laughter?

The voice sounded _real_ familiar, too. It was someone he knew, but who? He couldn't put his finger... well, paw... on it.

He became a mongoose next, scurrying rapidly towards the sound, while in his head some of the background music from the Rikki-Tikki-Tavi cartoon played. He wished he could make that cool schwish sound when _he_ darted around as a mongoose. Oh well.

Whoever was laughing was laying on the couch in the main room. Why did it sound so familiar? It wasn't any of his teammates. It wasn't any bad guy he could think of, either.

Whoever it was, he was gonna regret... whatever it was he had done! No mercy for the scumbag! It was time to pull a Batman and act all scary and tough even though all the crooks know Batman never permanently hurts anyone! He didn't _need_ to, that was just how scary he was, and Beast Boy was gonna be _twice_ as scary. 'Cause he had _fangs_, baby.

He went back to human, well, as human as he ever got anyway, and pounced on the giggly interloper!

And found himself to be face to face with... _himself_.

A Beast Boy with pale gray skin, darker gray hair, and eyes like liquid rubies blinked up at him, and then grinned.

"Well, well," the other Beast Boy said smugly, "if it isn't the Ma-ti of the group. Too worthless to even get kidnapped. Whassup?"

Dude. It was the _evil_ him Trigon had summoned! How was he even out again?! And the others weren't around to switch off to beat him! Crap!

No. No, it didn't matter. He wasn't some useless weakling, he was a Teen Titan. He could handle this by himself! The team was counting on him!

"I don't know why you're back," Beast Boy growled, "but you'd better go back in my chest again before I turn into a bronto and sit on you. And if you've done anything to my friends-"

"Oh, what _haven't_ I done, dude," evil Beast Boy interrupted, laughing again. "They're so easy to mess up, man, it's just stupid. A few days of pranks and they're all soap opera emo. But man, the best part, the _best_ part, was when Slade's robots came and took them away! They came at just the right moment! I couldn't have done it better myself! It was fucking _awesome_!" He collapsed into near hysterical laughter again, actually turning into a hyena to do so.

Beast Boy smacked his evil self, turning him back into normal again. "You better take me seriously or else, evil me! Slade kidnapped them? _All_ of them?! Even Robin, who has like a million anti-Slade plans and stuff?! And what kind of stuff have you been doing to my friends?!"

"Yeah, all those stupid plans and security systems Robin and Cyborg put together didn't do shit. But you know, they always pick on us, but really they're not smart. They just act like they are. I mean, I pulled a Riddler and left a clue for Raven to figure out who was screwing with them, and she didn't even get it! I gave her my _sig_ and the dumb bitch didn't get it! What a dumbass, right? I was gonna play around with 'em, use my different forms to fuck up their heads till they killed each other, but Slade'll probably do something at _least_ that fun, so he can have 'em. I can always go torture that asshole Mento. Name like those stupid candies, psh. I was gonna be the Joker... but then I thought, it's not worth it to go all the way to Gotham just to kill the first one and free up the name, so I went with Trickster instead. But yeah, first chance I get to kill the Joker, I'm killing him _so_ bad and taking his name. Like _that_." He snapped his fingers.

Beast Boy couldn't snap his fingers, and was instantly jealous.

"Hey, why can you do that?! I can't do that! That's not fair, you're just evil me, you shouldn't be able to do things I can't!"

Evil Beast Boy, or Trickster as he wanted to be called, looking unimpressed, stood up and stretched with an unhurried laziness that pissed Beast Boy off. "Naw, don't think of it like that, dude. I'm more like your totally unbridled, unsaddled, unridden, wild and born to be free self. Your _real_ self. So you can be an animal? Whoo, big deal, I can be _anything_. Because really, _everything's_ an animal to _someone_. How's _that_ cream taste in your coffee? Like the song goes, you're just a copy of an imitation. You're the Stax to my Pringles. _Anything you can do I can do better_..." he sang loudly and offkey.

"That is _so_ not true! And we don't have time for this!" He grabbed his evil self by the shoulders in a way he hoped way intimidating. "Get back inside me right now so I can go save my friends from Slade! And whatever stupid tricks you pulled on my friends, I'm gonna _tell_ 'em it was you so they can kick your butt the next time you try to pull one!"

Trickster started smoothing over his hair in a mockingly preening sort of way, half his mouth twisted into a clownish smile while the other half remained a Raven-like straight line. "Oh, I don't think you'd wanna do that. Do you really want your friends to figure out it was your inner self doing all the mean things I've been doing to them? You don't think they'll hate you for it? Well, they already hate you, 'cause you're a fuckin' pussy, but they'll hate you _more _if they know."

"Dude, you're more full of crap than the Sega Dreamcast! We've been through, like, _so_ much together! We went through the end of the world and came out kicking butt and taking names! They trust me. What did you do, anyway, anyway, put a virus in Cyborg or something? He's got backup protection schemes and junk now, you know."

"Yeah, they trust you alright. That's why Robin wanted you to go to jail when you morphed into that Blanka ripoff..."

It was kind of a low blow, yeah, it hurt... Beast Boy had never really gotten over that little deal... but he ignored it. It was just a distraction. There was something creepy about how Trickster didn't tell him what pranks he'd done when he asked. He leaned closer to the gray villain. "What did you do to my friends, you little jerk?" he growled lowly.

"Well, let's see," Trickster murmured, holding up fingers to count off. "One, I tried to make the walking trashcan not trust the plastic-bodied alien anymore. Not sure how that worked out, we'll see. Two, I turned into Raven and made out with Robin while Starfire watched. Oh, man, it was gross, but it was _so_ worth it to see all of them freaking out over it. The bimbo cried for hours, and Robin was all 'Dur hur, Raven hot now too, which one to get hickies from?' And Raven was all like 'What the hell are you talking about? I'm even more stressed now, oh crap, I just broke half the stuff in my room.' And then Robin decided it was _Slade_ doing it! And then _Slade_ came, so now I'm off the hook and I didn't even have to try that hard to get away with it! That was super sweet, dude, I'm tellin' you..."

"You're disgusting," Beast Boy said, feeling greener than usual at the concept of his evil self making out with Robin. "You can't even count right either, you still have a finger up, you stupid jerk." It was a mistake Beast Boy himself had made a few times, actually, but he needed a way to establish superiority and mental equita- architec- _equilibrium_ again, that was the word.

"Oh yeah. Did I forget? Three, I raped Raven," Trickster said casually, his face a picture of perfect calm.

Beast Boy remained quiet for a long moment, _sure_ that he had heard that wrong.

"What?" he asked very, very carefully.

Trickster was fighting to keep a straight face and losing, the smile was curling up like a predator's baring of teeth. "I raped Raven. I made myself look like her black magic crap so she'd think it was her fault, just to make the emo even emoer." He leaned closer, voice sinking into a whisper. "I fucked her till she bled, dude. It was awesome..."

"YOU'RE A FUCKING LIAR!" Beast Boy half-screamed, half-snarled, slamming Trickster up against a wall, hard. And then again, for emphasis. He wanted to hit the little asshole for telling such a stinking, obvious, gross lie.

"Why don't you tell them and find out?" Trickster suggested calmly, a maddening smile curling his lips.

Somehow Beast Boy's hands found their way to Trickster's throat, and started squeezing. "You're a liar... you're nothing but a liar, dammit... I've _never_ wanted to do that to her... no part of me would _ever_ do _that_ to _her_..." he hissed through clenched teeth.

Trickster's face blurred, and then suddenly he was looking at _Raven's_ face. He was choking _Raven_. And she was grinning nastily. "Come on, you know this body's hot. The leotard's just like a bathing suit. But of course, being the stuck up bitch I am, I never take off my cloak. And I always have to act soooo much better than Beast Boy, like I'm smart or mature or something, when really I'm just a moody self-involved little goth twit who hates to be nice because it takes me out of my comfort zone. It's my fault for it happening, really. If I hadn't been such a total ice queen bitch it wouldn't have happened."

"You're not Raven so stop talking like you are... you know what, just stop talking. Shut up. I mean it. Everything you say is a lie so you just need to shut up." He closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at the fake Raven anymore.

"I'm not the one who lied, dumbass." It wasn't Raven's voice anymore, but... Terra's. Beast Boy was glad his eyes were shut. "_They_ are. They told you that they're your friends... that they care about you... that they respect and trust you. You know that's a bunch of shit. Raven treats you like dirt. Cyborg yells at you whenever he feels like it. You're just a little gear in the machine to Robin. And Starfire's too busy daydreaming about banging Robin to care about spending time with anyone else. You think you have friends, but what you have are coworkers who'll grow up and leave you behind. Because they don't think you're good enough for them, and they never will."

"That's a lie... you're a liar..." Beast Boy whispered, clenching his eyelids more tightly shut to keep the tears from spilling. His fingers tightened on that throat sickeningly, wanting nothing more than to make the words stop, but they didn't stop. He still felt them bubbling up out of that warm soft throat, untroubled, unhurried, totally certain. "Why are you even here? Go back to wherever you came from... just leave us alone... we're happy like we are..."

"Why should I go back?" The voice was back to normal, Tricksterish. His _own_ voice. Just a lot more confident than Beast Boy himself had ever been. "You didn't beat me fair the first time. All the cheaters are out of the game this time, and you still won't be able to beat me. I'm the you that should have been. The you that would have told everyone what he really felt, instead of just joking about it all and pretending like nothing mattered. No, I think I'll stay and be me. You should watch and enjoy. It's the closest you'll ever come to being something other than a joke."

"Then I'll make you go back!" Beast Boy yelled, eyes open again to glare in hate, fingers squeezing harder... harder... he would just strangle whatever kind of life there was in the evil him until it wasn't there anymore! "I'll kill you!"

"You're too weak to do that," Trickster said, voice finally hoarse form the pressure on his throat, mouth twisted in a taunting grin. "Even if you could, I think you've got other things to worry about right now. Shouldn't you be trying to save your so-called friends, before the scent gets old and you lose them forever? Wouldn't it be a shame... if the four core Titans got reworked into minions for Slade 'cause you were too dumb to follow the scent while it's still fresh... you know, apprentices, like Terra. It'll be really hard 'cause you'll have to find the trail again from wherever it comes out from the water... if you can even do that..."

The scent trail! He'd completely forgotten! No, no, no, it couldn't be too late. He could still track them! He'd save them, no matter what! He wouldn't let the team down! And then... he'd take care of everything else. Somehow. He threw his evil self away to sprawl on the floor.

"Fine, I'll take care of you later. I'm going to save my friends now, and then when that's done I'm going to grind you to a _pulp_, you got that?! So don't think of trying anything because I'll just hurt you worse for it!"

Trickster had no reply but giggles as Beast Boy desperately fled.

There was too much to think about. Too many lies, too much crap... they _had_ to be lies, they _had_ to be! Evil guys _always_ lied, it was a rule! But telling himself that, over and over, didn't make him feel any less afraid.

He wasn't afraid that Slade would do something horrible to his friends before he got to them. He wasn't afraid that he wouldn't be able to rescue them once he found them, or even afraid that he wouldn't be able to find them at all. No, they had beaten Slade before and they'd beat him again. What he was afraid of was that maybe, just maybe, Trickster had been telling the truth... and if that was true, and the others learned, then they'd hate him and be scared of him forever and ever, even if they pretended not to. Nothing would ever be the same, then. His family would be ruined.

One family had died.

The second one, he hadn't been good enough for.

He wouldn't let _this_ family die, or get hurt, and he _would_ be good enough for them! He _would_, no matter _what_ it took. Even if he had to die trying.

Even if he had to die.

He almost hoped that was what would happen.

Because somehow, he knew that dying would be the only thing to take away that awful memory of Trickster whispering in his ear like a personal demon delighting in unspeakable truths.

_I fucked her till she bled, dude..._

_It was awesome..._

"Shut up," Beast Boy whispered to himself, as he turned into a hawk and flew towards the closest shoreline. The demon in front was more uncertain, but the demon behind was the only one that scared him.

There was a lot to think about, but for some reason, maybe because he didn't want to think about all the serious stuff, his mind grabbed ahold onto the movie Raven had picked out for movie night the week before, the cartoon wolf soldier terrorist one. It'd been so _dull_, for a toon, but Raven had gone on and on about how impressive and deep it was, how it had been a, what had she said? An 'eloquent exploration of the loneliness inherent in the human condition, and the choices we make to push people away or pull them closer.' Star had tried for a group hug then, and to everyone's amusement it'd been clear that Raven's appreciation for the fight against loneliness was _purely_ on the philosophical end.

He hadn't understood the thing about Red Riding Hood. It had been like two totally different stories going on at the same time, and he hadn't been able to see any connection. It'd been so depressing to see pretty much _all_ the interesting people die at the end, too. They had all just been trying trying to get through life in their own ways... they hadn't needed to die, but somehow their deaths had seemed totally... fated, or something. Like there was no other way to resolve the different points of view.

Was that all the Titans were, he wondered? Was that why his evil self had come back? Because there wasn't really such a thing as a superhero, just different sides in a war that never really ended? To Slade, were the Titans maybe the bad guys, keeping _him_ from being happy?

Maybe, in the end, everyone just hated everyone, and there wasn't any way to get away from that. Maybe their evil selves really _were_ the ones with the power. Trickster was right about not being able to be beaten by himself alone.

Same with Starfire and Cyborg and _their_ evil selves.

They hadn't _really_ won, they'd just pulled a trick.

They'd... cheated.

It took about ten minutes of searching the coastline before he found the trail again. After that, it was to the sewers, where horrible odors very nearly wiped the trail out. It took him three times longer than it should have to cover what was a pretty short distance, and he lost and found and relost and refound the trail over and over, but eventually he came to a ladder that the trail led up through. And so up the ladder he went, in covert bug form. He had to be stealthy. He had to do that recon stuff Robin was always stressing over, and figure out what was going on and where everything was before he kicked Slade's butt.

He had to be careful not to let Slade kick _his_ butt, too.

The hatch at the top of the ladder was close enough to air-tight that even a bug couldn't get through, and Beast Boy was temporarily stumped. He could just open it the regular way, but then everyone nearby would know about it. What could he do to slip through something that wouldn't even let a bug through? What was _that_ small?

Then he remembered the time he'd infected Cyborg with a virus... he'd been such a stupid jerk for doing that... but he'd fixed it by becoming an amoeba. That would _definitely_ be small enough! Heck, why hadn't he thought of using that form more often? It was small enough to get around all sorts of things!

"Look out, Slade, here comes tiny green vengeance," Beast Boy muttered, and then amoeba-ized himself.

The only problem was that, once he was that small, everything was so large that it was hard to tell what direction to go in! He went one way, and then the other, frantically... but then finally got his bearings and made his way through.

Then he went into mouse shape behind a nearby crate, peeking out and trying to figure out the room.

It was a warehouse, filled with lots of boxes and random gears and tools and stuff, and a really high ceiling that appeared to not have any lights installed. The walls were covered with countless television monitors, currently displaying black and white static that gave the large room an eerie flickering lighting. Sladebots were guarding the doors but they left the rest of the room clear, leaving it free for the boxes and crates, five steel tables, and Slade himself, who stood in front of the tables regally, arms crossed.

One table was empty. The others had his friends strapped to them. Raven, horrifically, was naked, while for some reason the others weren't. He immediately felt intensely sorry for her. She didn't even like to go without her _cloak_, and could barely imagine how vulnerable she had to feel, being naked in front of _Slade_. It was like a violation of one of the main laws of the universe or something.

Slade was talking to them...

"-will be found soon enough, I have quite a few search parties on the lookout for him. I have nanites to disable his powers as well... not that he is that important, but I suppose I have a little bit of the collector in me. It will be so nice to have the whole set."

"You know you're only going to lose in the end, Slade," Robin said determinedly. "You always do. Maybe you have a few new tech tricks up your sleeve this time, but it won't make a difference!"

"Silly boy," Slade said, reaching over to pat Robin's head condescendingly. "Do you really think any of your other victories were anything more than flukes? I've come quite prepared this time. My new supplier is both capable and generous. The controller for the nanites is embedded in my brain. The only way you'll stop me _this_ time is by decapitating me. In addition to having any moral qualms over _that_ act, you would have to first circumvent the nanites themselves to perform it... in other words, children, you are helpless clay in my hands. And I shall mold you as I see fit."

Nanites? Those tiny computer things, like tech germs. Slade had done that junk to them before. Okay, so he just had to make sure to not get infected. That wouldn't be hard. He was right here, right behind Slade, and that proud supervillainy dummy didn't even have any guns or lasers around as far as he could tell. He'd charge up to Slade, grab him in some wrestlingy submission type hold, and threaten to start breaking bones unless Slade released his friends. Okay, figuring out how to actually get rid of the tech germies might be tough, but he'd think of something. First things first, he had to get them _free_.

And God, he needed to put some clothes on Raven before he went completely _insane_. It was wrong to even be in the same room with her naked... so, so wrong...

And now he knew what his evil self had seen of her, assuming his evil self hadn't been lying, and the thought was so sickening he almost, as a mouse, threw up. He choked it back with a hiccup.

But Slade had _scary_ good hearing.

"Well, how very good of you to join us, Beast Boy. Why don't you change into a more noticeable form? I'm sure your friends will be glad to see you. I know _I_ am."

Crap, he'd screwed up! Well, maybe he could still get a quick attack in if he hurried! Beast Boy transformed into a rhino and charged, crushing boxes and splintering crates in his path. Slade sidestepped it with infuriating ease, and suddenly was twirling a metal staff in his hands, and Beast Boy had to frantically break before he crashed into the tables his friends were on.

"Not much room for a rhinoceros," Slade commented idly. "Try a gorilla."

Beast Boy realized, even if it pissed him off, the truth of Slade's words, but instead of turning into an ape he turned into a velociraptor, biting into the staff and trying to wrench it from the man's grasp.

"Come come now. Tug of war is so childish." Slade just let the staff go, and while Beast Boy was stumbling from the unexpected move, sent a kick into the green dinosaur's jaw that was strong enough to rattle his skull. Beast Boy cried in rage and dropped the staff, and Slade had it back again, twirling, twirling...

"It's a pity I didn't think to leave any of the nanite-equipped robots here for backup. The search parties were extensive, I'd assumed a clumsy boy such as you would have been caught quickly enough. No matter. Fixit, I trust you've sent out the return signal?"

"Yes, sir," a smoothly robotic voice said from a corner of the room Beast Boy hadn't been paying much attention to.

"Good. How long before the nearest search party arrives?"

"Seven and a half minutes."

"Very well then. Well, my green little friend, you have seven and a half minutes to perform some sickeningly heroic action to stop me. Once the nanite-equipped robots arrive you'll be just as helpless as your friends here, so if you have any surprises to pull out of thin air, I suggest you start pulling."

Fixit? Wait a minute, wasn't that that weird cloaked glass jar robot dude Cyborg had turned to the good side?

"Hey, man, Fixit?! Is that you?! Man, I thought I'd changed you! I thought we understood each other! Why're you helping this scuzzball?!" Cyborg shouted angrily, confirming Beast Boy's vague memory.

Fixit stepped forward to address Cyborg, and Beast Boy was so creeped out by the glass jar with organs in it that he didn't immediately try to attack Slade again. It was so freaky... almost hypnotic. And gross. Really, really gross.

"I have been repaired from my previous state," Fixit said calmly. "I am temporarily coordinating my functions with Slade to oversee the repairs for you and your team, Cyborg."

"He's on loan from my supplier," Slade explained, enjoying Cyborg's look of confused anger. "Quite a useful fellow, less prone to... distractions of the _heart_... than my previous servants. Of course, he is only temporary. Which why I've seen fit to indulge in a procedure that will remove all unnecessary distractions from you Titans, so that you will be perfected under my hand. By the way, Beast Boy, five minutes and fifty seconds."

The announcement shocked Beast Boy into action. He morphed into a deer, hoping to use the horns and hooves to catch Slade off guard, but the best he accomplished was forcing the martial artist back one step. So he switched to an alligator to snap at his knees, and then a lion, and through shape after shape, knowing that if he stayed in any one form too long Slade would adjust to that form's weaknesses and gain the advantage. All the while, the other Titans yelled encouragement, being unable to do anything else, the most enthusiastic being Starfire, who urged him to 'Smite the bad man with righteous fury!' All except for Raven, who hadn't said a word the whole time, and was probably trying really, really hard to be unnoticeable.

And Slade kept on talking, which Beast Boy felt was _totally_ unfair, because he couldn't even talk back without turning into himself or a parrot and getting his butt kicked! The worst part of it was that Slade wasn't even getting winded. It was just like when he'd hand his hands around his evil self's throat... and his evil self hadn't even _cared_...

It seemed like nothing he did really mattered, in the end.

"The initial nanite injection is just to keep you all under control, of course. After that the _real_ fun begins. There is a more complex procedure that will allow me to install suits similar to the one dear Terra had, that will leave your every body function under my direct control. And for Raven, the only Titan to have beaten me singlehandedly under fair circumstances, I have prepared something _particularly_ extravagant, which is why, I'm sure you've noticed, she is in such a state of undress."

Beast Boy couldn't help but turn into himself for just a moment to snarl at him, "What do you want to do with Raven?!"

It cost him a knee.

Slade's foot struck the right knee dead center, and pushed with full body weight behind it. It cracked, and Beast Boy was ashamed to scream but couldn't help it, kneeling down with his weight on his good leg. It hurt so much... but still not as much as remembering Trickster's words, or knowing how vulnerable Raven had to feel, and how Slade had singled her out for something horrible. Why did all the worst crap have to happen to _Raven_?! Hadn't she been through enough already?! He morphed into an octopus, hoping that one lame tentacle wouldn't be too much of a drawback, and grappled with Slade furiously.

Slade chuckled. "Aquatic life, that's actually pleasingly creative... for you, at least. Fixit, why don't you put on the video I made showcasing Raven's _special_ suit? I had originally intended to sell it to the highest bidder, but using it for this purpose is, while less financially filling, _so_ much more ambrosial to the soul."

"As you wish, sir."

The fuzzy monitors began to flicker, and then a video emerged on the dozens and dozens of screens, all the same image.

It wasn't what Beast Boy had expected to see, though.

It was a crystal-clear image of Slade and Terra... together... and naked. Unless you counted the black leather straps and velvet mask on Terra and the usual metal mask on Slade, anyway. She was sitting upright, still as a doll, while Slade... _touched_ her... in ways Beast Boy had never imagined her being touched.

"Oh dear," Slade said, unconcernedly, while Beast Boy and the other Titans were shocked into absolute silence. Beast Boy unconsciously morphed back into himself and stumbled away from Slade a few paces, staring in horror at something he didn't want to see but couldn't bring himself to look away from. "It appears we have a technical malfunction."

"My apologies, sir," Fixit said. "There was a minor system error. The correct video will be displayed momentarily."

"Hmm..." Slade mused, eyes on Beast Boy, who didn't even care that he was leaving himself wide open to an attack. "On second thought, leave it at the current one, Fixit. I think it only appropriate that this pathetic little boy see just how fully I knew Terra... in ways he could have never imagined... just before he himself and the rest of his team is so generously granted the same gift."

They were shouting at him to not watch, that it was a distraction, a trap, that Slade was trying to psych him out. Beast Boy _knew_ all that, but still... he couldn't stop watching. He watched that beautiful golden-haired girl be utterly submissive to Slade, watched him do things to her, watched while he ordered her to do things to him, and she obeyed with a countenance that mixed shame, robotic obedience, and eagerness all together. Bondage props popped up very often, most of the common stuff like whips and chains and gags, and also more ominous metallic tools that Beast Boy couldn't begin to imagine the uses of until he actually _saw_ them being used, and felt sick for it.

"_Tell me you love me,_" the Slades on the monitors commanded, at one point.

Dozens of Terras replied without hesitation.

"_I love you._"

There was hesitation _after_ that, though.

"_D-... do you love me?_"

The words would have been hard to hear, they were so quiet, except that they were being projected from so very many speaks at once, all around.

Beast Boy waited for the answer as video-Slade stroked video-Terra's hair, his whole world reduced to that scene. For some reason it seemed very important, more important than anything else in the world, to know what Slade had said.

"_Of course I love you, Terra._"

"So you see," the real Slade's voice came from somewhere close, and Beast Boy _still_ couldn't turn away, still couldn't look away from the past, and God, no wonder Terra had wanted to so completely forget _everything_, "we came to be quite close. Closer than you and she ever were. And then you turned her against me... I can't begin to tell you how much that hurt me."

"Hurt..." Beast Boy whispered, half-hysterical. "Hurt... _you_?" the ludicrously self-centered words seemed to break the spell the video had on him, and he slowly turned to face Slade. "_We_ turned her against _you_?"

"I've tried so _hard_ to find someone to follow in my footsteps, to serve as heir to all my great things, my glory, my wisdom," Slade snarled, suddenly sounding angry for the first time. "And somehow you Titans have _always_ ruined it! I am through playing games with children! I will have you all, you will _all_ be mine, utterly, wholly, down to every last nerve ending, and you will be at my side and never betray me. My journey has been a long and hard one, you misguided waylayers have never made it easy, but it has finally come to an end, do you understand?! The cycle ends _now_. The nanites that serve as heralds of my will are now less than a minute from the very doorstep, and you have _failed_, Beast Boy! _Accept_ it! It is no shame in admitting defeat. Truth be told, you could have never defeated me in the first place. This was all as destiny meant it to be. You are the weakest of the Titans, and therefore the one most likely to _realize_ your weakness, to accept your helplessness against me, and stop fighting so self-destructively."

"You... you're a really sick man," Beast Boy whispered in sickening realization. He actually, for the first time ever, felt _sorry_ for Slade. "You're really, truly, totally sick. You need help."

"The only help I require will arrive shortly. Don't struggle, Beast Boy. Be brave and accept your fate. Change is frightening for all of us... even myself... but it's for the best. We will all learn to be happy together... just as Terra and I were... you'll see. Perhaps we'll even manage to bring her back to the fold as well. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Don't worry, I'm willing to share her. To an extent."

Time was running out, but Beast Boy was so overcome that he couldn't think straight to fight. He wasn't even sure he _could_ really fight anymore, with his knee the way it was.

"Is this really all you are?" he demanded of Slade incredulously. "Is this all there is in life for you? I mean... _COME ON_!" he shouted in hysteria, gesturing wildly with his arms. The shout echoed through the room. "You're smart, you're strong, you've got crazy Bruce Lee moves, you've got more tech than Cyborg, you've even got a milky smooth voice! _WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS_?! You could do anything you wanted! You could be rich! Famous! A scientist, an astronaut, the guy who finds the cure for AIDS, the freaking pope... you have all the best things in life and you're _wasting_ it on this crazy serial killer stalker psycho _CRAP_!"

"Are you quite finished?" Slade asked coldly.

"Why can't you just be a good person?" Beast Boy pleaded suicidally, desperately, with the most genuine sympathy he'd ever had for anyone about anything, ever. "Why can't you just be _normal_?"

"_I CAN'T BE NORMAL!_" Slade screamed suddenly with a complete lack of restraint, and it was such an awful and uncharacteristic sound that it took Beast Boy a good five seconds to realize that it was Slade that had actually made it. It was the scream of a soul that had seen hell and knew it belonged there.

The short, half-crippled green boy stared up at the tall, powerful, metal-shrouded man, and for a moment the only sounds in the air were their stressed breathing.

"I've tried..." Slade hissed more quietly, pain in his voice. Then his voice cleared over again, and it was as if the past little scene had never even happened. "But no matter. The past is the past, Beast Boy, and today is a day to look forward to the future. Turn around, and you will see your future coming for you."

The robots had arrived.

Was this how it ended, then?

Was he really a failure?

Would they all spend the rest of their lives living out Slade's pathetic idea of what a family was like?

No.

No, there had to be some way to win.

There was _always_ a way to beat Slade.

Even if it usually hurt, and had some sacrifice with it.

He needed time to think. He peeked around, saw the robots approaching slowly, and hobbled with equal slowness, circling around Slade, hoping that keeping his pace down would prevent the man from ordering the robots to be more speedy.

"Do you really think I'm the weakest?" he asked, partly to distract Slade, partly because he really wanted to know.

"While you have an impressive breadth of ability, even your most powerful forms are quite vulnerable, my dear boy. A dinosaur only makes a bigger target for the proper weaponry."

"But not everything powerful is big," Beast Boy said, and an awful, awful idea began to take hold in his mind. The only way he had to win. But he _had_ to win. For his friends. So they could live and be happy. Even if he had to make a sacrifice for it. "And I may just look like a wussy, lazy, wounded goofball... but that's not _all_ I am. Even a goofball can beat you, with the right trick."

"Is that a threat?" Slade sounded amused. "That's... adorable. You have learned the art of bluffing from Robin, I see. I will quite enjoy continuing this banter once you have been fitted for your suit."

"I'm gonna ask you one last time," Beast Boy said quietly, earnestly. "Please, dude... just let it all go, and walk away. I, I don't know how Robin'll feel about this... but, me, I won't even try to put you in jail. Just... just leave us alone, and go do something good with your life."

"I must regretfully decline your gracious offer," Slade said immediately, punctuating it with a chuckle. "I _do_ hope you will have something wittier to say once you are in more... _formal_ wear."

This was it, then.

He had no other choice.

There was no other way to win.

He'd have to peel back the goofball mask and show some of the Trickster to the world.

His friends would never forgive him, for the trick he was about to play.

"No, dude," Beast Boy whispered sadly, seeing the robots closing in from just a few feet away. "Don't you get it? Only in the tales that humans tell do the hunters kill the wolf in the end..."

And then, as far as everyone else could tell, he vanished.

In reality, though, he had simply turned into a germ. He wasn't even sure what kind of germ it was. Just that it was something bad. Cancer? Black death? Who knew. Whatever he was, he found his way into Slade's body, and then he multiplied. He multiplied over, and over, and over again, and watched as countless germ copies of himself ravaged the inner workings of Slade's body. The blood, the flesh, the veins and organs. To be certain, he kept going until he'd spread throughout every single part of Slade's body, from his nose to his toes, and completely overwhelmed every single white blood cell. He kept going on and on, watching Slade's body break apart and mutate at the cellular level, all over.

And when he was totally certain that nothing living could remain in such a body... when he saw the heart stop pumping and felt the brain stop sending electric signals... he made his way out through some orifice or other, he didn't even care enough to identify it, and turned back into normal.

The sheer amount of blood on the floor, in messy pools and trails, was frightening. Even more so was Slade's corpse face up in the middle of it, the mask off for the first time, face twisted in agony and his chin spattered with spit and froth. The hands clutched the mask... he'd taken it off while vomiting blood, apparently. His face was that of a man between middle age and old age, with an eyepatch and a neatly-trimmed white beard. He looked like someone's Scotch grandfather, the type that was always getting into lady trouble at parties and sharing slightly mischevious kinds of fun with his grandkids.

The robots all stood absolutely still, apparently deactivated without a master to give them commands.

He saw Fixit running off, and didn't even have the heart to give chase.

He just staring at the man he had killed, until the sounds of metal twisting and breaking shook him out of his nightmare reverie.

With Slade dead, the nanites were also deactivated, apparently, because Raven, Starfire, and Cyborg all freed themselves pretty much instantly, Starfire and Cyborg then helping out Robin, while Raven immediately grabbed her cloak from the floor and wrapped it over herself tightly, hood well up over her face. He hadn't noticed until just then that her leotard had been shredded for some reason.

"Beast Boy... I..." Robin started to say, but Beast Boy took a _big_ breath and interrupted.

"It's okay, guys," he said with a wry little smile. "I know how it is. I broke the rules. It was the only thing I could think of to win, but winning isn't supposed to be the important thing when you're a superhero, I know. I, I'm not a hero anymore... if I ever was one. So, it's okay. I get it. I won't make it hard. I'll go turn myself in. Okay? And, and I'm sure I won't have to worry about getting raped in the butt or anything, because I can turn into scary animals and stuff, right?" He laughed nervously, watching his friends' faces twitch with emotions he couldn't figure out. "I killed him. I killed him, and he couldn't even do anything to fight back. So I've got to go to jail now. I, I accept that. And, and please don't m-make a big deal out of it, okay? Just go on with l-life, and pretend like I was never in the team, and everyone'll be, be happy."

"Beast Boy," Robin said again after a _really_ awkward moment, "don't never do that again."

Was Robin's hand on his shoulder? Why? That didn't make any sense. Robin wasn't the touchy-feely type. His fingers were even squeezing a little.

"Don't ever do that again. Okay? But we're not going to make you go to jail. I promise. You don't _belong_ in jail, Beast Boy, and I'm sorry if you feel that you do."

"Man," Cyborg put in his two cents, in a weirdly gentle tone, "don't be stupid. You're not going anywhere, beansprout. What you did... okay, it was nasty, but you did what you felt you had to do. Let's... let's just forget that it ever happened, and go on with life."

Oh, come on. They were just going to _forgive_ him?! That wasn't right. Now he'd just have to deal with knowing they thought about him differently... every day for the rest of his life. It would be like the... _other_ thing... only, not as bad, and it would _never_ be that bad, because he wouldn't _tell_ them that thing, and he wouldn't tell them because Trickster had been _lying_. Please, God, let it all have been lies.

"I'll never forget," Beast Boy whispered, his eyes finding Raven's for some reason. They stared at each other with expressions that were probably what people looked like when they saw ghosts. "I'll never forget... any of it..." And he knew _they_ wouldn't, either.

"Try," Raven suggested. "Try anyway."

Starfire had no words, but had a hug for him instead. The rest of the Titans joined in gradually. Cyborg first, his big metal arms wrapping around them both comfortingly. Then Robin, limbs wiry but still with a strong, meaningful grip to them. Raven was last. She didn't really hug them all as such, but she put one faintly trembling hand on Beast Boy's back and then leaned a shoulder very lightly against the group.

None of them cried, to Beast Boy's relief, but they stayed like that for a long, long time.

Raven finally broke away, when it was starting to get awkward, and that served as the signal for the rest of them to step apart. They looked at each other grimly, then their gazes went down to Slade.

"Should we bury him or something?" Cyborg asked.

"Technically, he's crime scene evidence," Robin said. "We should call the police and let them take care of it... by the book. But... yeah. Let's... let's bury him. He... he's our business, as much as anyone's."

"When there is a moment of convenience, I will sing the first few verses of the Thirty-Ninth Lament for Fallen Warriors, in the hope that his spirit finds the peace it did not in life," Starfire said.

"I don't think he knew what the difference between hate and love was, in the end," Raven said quietly, thoughtfully. Her voice was shaking a little too, in addition to her hands, but she was trying very very hard to keep it steady, Beast Boy could tell. He'd never seen her so shaken up over something that didn't involve her father. "What a terrible way to live."

For some reason, Starfire looked down fixedly at the ground at that statement. "I am sorry that I yelled at you earlier, friend Raven. I know now it must have been one of Slade's robots that did the making out with Robin."

Beast Boy bit his tongue hard, the muscles in his jaw tensing.

"Th-that's okay, Starfire. Totally understandable mistake," Raven said with a little desperation in her voice, obviously hoping to get the issue out of the way as quickly as possible.

Robin, though, was quiet. And Robin did not get an apology.

"Look, guys," Raven suddenly said in a business-like way, "I don't mean to be a wet blanket, but there's all these emotions hanging around, and I haven't meditated today, and I'm pretty far out of my comfort zone. I don't think I can make it back to the tower before chain-reaction telekinetic explosion start happening. I need to meditate right now, before it gets any worse and I put you all in danger. And right after that I'll heal your leg, okay Beast Boy?"

"No rush, I hardly even notice it," Beast Boy lied through his fangs. It hurt like _hell_, but he wasn't going to let _them_ know that. Everyone had enough crap to deal with.

"Okay, Raven. You do what you need to do. We'll... figure out how we're going to transport the body," Robin said, going into leadership mode. Who knew leadership mode included corpse disposal?

She walked over to one of the walls and sat down, fingers keeping a paranoid grip on her cloak to make sure not an inch of skin was revealed by the action, and started chanting her mantra.

"Azarath... metrion... zinthos... azarath... metrion... zinthos..."

"Okay... Beast Boy, just stay where you are, don't worry about it. I'm _serious_, Beast Boy, just rest."

"Azarath... metrion... zinthos..."

"Cyborg, help me move him out of the blood and over into a clear spot. After that we'll wipe him clean."

"Azarath... m-metrion... zinthos..."

"Star, look around for a crate or something. If we're lucky maybe we can find something big enough for him."

"Azarath... metrion... zinth- you know what guys, I'm sorry, this isn't going to work."

"What is it, Raven?" Robin asked gently.

Beast Boy noticed Starfire's gaze go from Robin to Raven emotionlessly, but intently. He gave a little smile and wave to distract her. No need to have any more angst than they could help, right?

"I'm sorry, I just... I feel weird with just my cloak on, and I, I can't focus with you guys around..." Raven said quietly, face red.

"The body can wait. Guys? Let's just step outside for a little bit... Beast Boy, don't move, get Cyborg to carry you. Don't look at me, I mean it. Let's give Raven a little privacy, and when she's done she can call us all in and we can finish doing everything else."

So they went outside, Beast Boy carried in Cy's arms like a baby, and it felt strangely good, almost worth the broken knee. Almost. They leaned against dirty brick walls in a secluded alleyway just outside the door, and avoided looking at each other. Beast Boy leaned against the door instead of the wall, because it looked a little cleaner. He could hear Raven chanting through the wood.

"Azarath... metrion... zinthos..."

"He was right," Cyborg said suddenly. "The cycle did end. For him, anyway. Poor bastard."

"Language, Cy," Robin reminded him. It sounded reflexive more than serious. Beast Boy couldn't help but smile a tiny bit.

"Yeah, yeah..."

"Azarath... metrion... zinthos..."

And then, Starfire started singing, very quietly, eyes closed. It was totally unlike any of the other Tamaranian songs he'd ever heard her sing. It was slow, and gentle, and so soft and flowing he could barely make out the sound of it. And very, very sad.

"_Se he melpt he le heus... tre he melpt o pridi..._"

"Where do you think we should bury him?" Cyborg asked Robin.

"The island?" Beast Boy suggested. "There's... there's a nice little spot I know... next to a rock..."

"Azarath... metrion... zinthos..."

"_Lingu ni he fe he me... tre he melpt godi..._"

"Cyborg? You have a setting on your cannon that can harden dirt, right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, we can put him there, then. You'll just have to harden the hole to keep the water out."

"Azarath... metrion... zinthos..."

"_Ste he melpt he le heus... tre he melpt o pridi..._"

"I was thinking we could use the rock, as like a marker or something," Beast Boy went on, vaguely aware that he was either being really super-duper practical or babbling like an idiot, and not being able to tell which it was. "Maybe put something on it. I mean, it's, like, classier that way... and he was... he was classy, in his supervillain type way..."

"Class... yeah..." Robin agreed slowly. "Yeah. He had that. He had a lot of things. It's just sad that he choose to use them the way he did."

"Azarath... metrion... zinthos..."

"_Lingu ni he fe he me... tre heus o prishid godi..._"

"Robin, while you were..." Beast Boy started to ask, then thought better of it. Then he saw Robin's mask staring at him expectantly, and he went on, knowing he should just shut up. "While you were... with him... did he... did he... y-you know?"

"Azarath... metrion... zinthos..."

No one moved.

Starfire stopped singing.

All of a sudden, the sounds of traffic not all that far away were very, very loud and intrusive.

"Do you think we should hire a professional coroner?" Robin asked them, his voice utterly without tone or expression. "None of us know how to do embalming. Of course, it's not like he'll have a normal funeral..."

Starfire started singing again.

"Azarath... metrion... zinthos..."

"_Eta li hapru... esta mi langu..._"

Not answering a question was a kind of answer, too. Beast Boy let his gaze linger on the ground, on a crushed Mountain Dew can.

"Maybe we can carve something on the rock, too," Robin went on, trying to fill the silence.

"Azarath... metrion... zinthos..."

"_Oh fabi atshiius... Gofria kruhemen entu..._"

"Well, at least now I can say I've done something Batman hasn't," Beast Boy joked, _knowing_ it was an awful joke, _knowing_ that this was the last time and place to try to be funny, but unable to help himself. He kicked the can and listened to it clatter over pavement.

"Let's not tell Batman about this," Robin said. "Should he ever happen to ask us what happened to our arch-enemy."

"Azarath... metrion... zinthos..."

"_Se he melpt he le heus... tre he melpt o pridi..._"

"Okay," Beast Boy agreed quietly.

"Sure," Cyborg said slowly, his gaze distant.

"In fact, let's not tell anyone about it," Robin said gently. "Ever."

"It never happened?" Beast Boy asked.

"It never happened."

So that would be their little lie, the new mask that would make life bearable. But saying it hadn't happened wouldn't keep him from remembering. It wouldn't keep any of them from remembering.

Terra had loved Slade.

Slade had loved Terra.

Terra had also loved _him_, up until the point where she forgot about him.

And he... he had loved Terra.

And Slade... Slade had seemed to love the Titans as a whole, at the end... wanting to keep them with him, in peaceful agreement with his lifestyle, forever...

And he loved the Titans, they were his family, but his evil self, the part of him that kept him awake at nights, claimed to have raped Raven, and hurt Starfire badly, and hurt Robin a little too, and maybe even Cyborg.

And what did that make love, anyway?

If people could feel love for such different people at the same time, and express it in so many different ways, what was love?

"Azarath... metrion... zinthos..."

"_Lingu ni he fe he me... tre he melpt godi..._"

End Part I


	6. Part II, Chapter 1

**Yes, more Beast Boy. Probably too much Beast Boy for some people's tastes when taken together with the last chapter, but I'm trying to go with a strict character pov organization here.I've been having a lot of fun playing around with the overall narrative structure of this story, because it's not something I generally get to do with my 'serious' fiction. (Serious in the sense that I'm trying to get paid for it. I don't actually take my fanfic-writing less seriously than my other writing.)**

**Hmm. Thinking out loud here: I had basically intended this fic to be an exploration of the darker aspects of the Titans, the aspects left unexplored by the show, including sexuality... but the sexuality aspect seems to be dominating, which probably makes me some sort of sick teenagerphile pervert. I'm not writing this sort of thing for my own or the audience's sexual gratification... I'm simply trying to explore the dark side and these are the shadows that happen to pop up out of my metaphorical pen. I'm thinking back to Kayasuri-n's profile statement that people should never write about rape, undoubtedly brought upon by getting sick of all the rape glorification in fanfics... but then I remember the treatment of sexuality in Witchgirl's 'the Corpse Bridesmaid,' and think to myself, maybe there's hope for mature, thematically helpful usage of sexuality in fanfiction even yet...**

**Chapter written to Puscifier's 'Rev 22:20' and Lacuna Coil's 'Angel's Punishment.'**

Part II: Darker

Chapter 1: Fearful Pilgrimage

Beast Boy saw Raven walking past with a jumbled up heap of clothes in her arms, so he walked up to her (from the side, so she could actually see him).

"Hey Raven, do you need any help with that? I can wash the load for you if you want..." he said in his best we're-friends-and-everything's-fine voice.

"Thanks, but I think I'll do it myself," Raven said dryly, her voice slightly muffled through the clothes. "Nothing personal but there's some things in here I _don't_ need you seeing."

"Oh! Heheh, right. Sure. Well, I'll see you later then!"

"Beast Boy? Wait. Um... can you just tell me why you're being so nice to me lately?"

"What? C'mon, it's nothing. I mean, we're friends, right?"

"Yeah..."

"And friends do nice things for each other, right?"

"Yeah..."

"So what's wrong with me being nice to you?"

"Nothing, it's just... you're acting strange. Beast Boy, you don't even wash your _own_ clothes unless you're under threat of death, let alone anyone else's."

"Okay, dude, I won't offer anymore, if you don't want help." He stuck his tongue out at her and pulled both his upper eyelids up with his index fingers. He had it on good authority it was a cool thing to do in Japan.

"And then there's the cups of tea in the morning, and not reading over my shoulder anymore, and you've stopped trying to sneak into my room and mess with my things... look, I like it that you're being considerate, but, well... you're not trying to... hit on me... are you?"

Beast Boy tripped over his own feet and fell sprawling in front of Raven, who stopped in time to avoid falling herself. Her precarious mountain of clothes _didn't_ stop, though, and he found himself buried in seven wrinkled cloaks, two stained leotards, and what he really, _really_ hoped wasn't a bra.

"No no no no no no no no! No no no no no. No no no no NO no no. No. No," he said a final time, for emphasis.

"Okay, just checking." Black energy enveloped the fallen clothes and placed them back in their proper places, and Raven stepped over him casually. "Didn't mean to assume things. It's just... after that Slade robot lookalike thing, I'm still on the lookout for soap opera plot twists."

"Dude, our lives _are_ so a soap opera!" Beast Boy said with a grin, hopping to his feet. "Except we don't have any dudes named Lance. We need a Lance. Who doesn't wear shirts. In fact, I think I'll go look for one right now!"

"Good luck with that?" Raven called out with dry humor at Beast Boy's retreating back.

Whew, that had been awkward. Maybe he was being a little too nice to Raven lately. He had to act normal or she'd get suspect and start suspicioning things. A tiny little prank or something would probably help get things back to feeling normal. A really really tiny one though, he didn't want to actually get her mad. Not after what she... what she _might_ have been through. She seemed to be acting as Raveny as ever... but acting Raveny meant keeping secrets and denying things, after all. He'd watched her like a hawk, sometimes _as_ one, and all he could tell was that she wasn't using her powers in the tower so much, and she was yawning more than usual.

He was going out of his mind trying to find Trickster, and he was trying real hard to hide it, but Robin and Raven were starting to catch on. Yesterday, Robin had even caught him prowling the evidence room and telling no one in particular to 'Get out here so I can dropkick you worse than Chuck Norris did to that guy on tv last week.' He'd quickly explained it as just a game, which left Robin commenting on how the evidence room was _not_ an appropriate place to play make believe in, but that excuse wouldn't work every time. He normally only played make believe once a week, after all!

When it came down to it, there was no way Beast Boy could think of to find a Trickster who didn't want to be founded, if Trickster really _could_ turn into just about anything. Unless he wanted to ask the others for help. Which he planned to do... right after Jesus came back to proclaim the glory and wonder of the deep-fried twinkie. No, he _wanted_ to get their help, he _needed_ their help, but he couldn't take the risk. It was awful, keeping secrets from them, but Trickster was _his_ problem and _he_ had to fix it. And there was that tiny, really totally gnat-sized chance that Trickster had... had _hurt_ Raven... and he just couldn't take the chance of her being afraid of him and hating him forever. He wasn't scared of being kicked off the team. That wouldn't have been so bad. If that happened, he could become a dirty hermit or something, and never have to look in a mirror again. No, he was scared that they'd let him stay, just like with the Slade thing... and _pretend_ everything was fine... but really, they'd stop liking him. On the inside, they'd hate him and be scared of him. And on the outside, they'd pretend they didn't. That was what he was scared of, above all else. He was already on thin ice after the Slade thing, and he wasn't really that powerful, or smart, or dedicated, not compared to the others. He couldn't afford to take the risk.

Why couldn't the little jerk just come out and fight like a normal bad guy?!

There wasn't even any way to track his smell in the tower, since he had the same smell as Beast Boy, and wherever Beast Boy went his smell was there with him, after all. It'd taken him like a week to figure that out.

It really was hopeless.

Beast Boy sighed and went down to the main room to kill some time surfing the net. He'd been meaning to try out some of those flashy games Cyborg had been talking about. Especially the Mario versus Sonic Mortal Kombat spoof one. Hurting foreign people as a hedgehog was fun. He knew from personal experience.

Several minutes later...

"OW-A! NOT-A ME FACE-A!"

"Hahahahah!" Mario shoulda stayed on the Nintendo. This dorky plumber was goin' _down_. Okay, down, forward, a, a, down again, then-

A popup blocked the whole screen while the game continued to play.

"_HEY!_ Dude, that's not cool! Stop that! Where's the stupid x?! LET ME CLICK YOUR X YOU EVIL FLICKERY COMPUTER COMMERCIAL!" He couldn't even find his cursor in the stupid thing, let alone the x to make the window close. He heard the sound of Mario slamming a plunger into his hedgehog, and then Sonic's death scream.

"Aggghhh! Come on! No, I _don't_ want your porn, in fact you might even say I've _hated_ porn since the last time I saw any, so how about you just... what... the... heck..."

One of the naked women digitally dancing around in silky lingerie was... was... _Starfire_?!

It _was_ Starfire.

Right down to the tiny little alien eyebrows.

Beast Boy's brain reeled. It didn't make sense. Starfire... doing porno?! It was so totally unlike her! And, and it wasn't like she left the tower much without one of the other titans with her anyway! He couldn't see any way she _could_ do such a thing unless she'd set up a webcam type thing in her room or something. Groping for understanding, he did something he'd never done before, and clicked the popup ad.

He landed in a web site devoted to the Metropolis Menagerie. He didn't know what a menagerie was, but apparently it involved lots of barely eighteen girls posing naked with each other while little black bars covered their naughty parts. Starfire was in a lot of them, and was doing almost universally unStarfire-like things. No innocent bewilderment or cute friendliness or straightforward righteous behavior. No, this Starfire looked like she knew what she was doing, and knew what people thought of what she was doing, and wanted them to think it even more while sticking dollar bills wherever they could be stuck. She looked like a _ho_.

Beast Boy started to wonder if maybe everything that had happened in the last couple weeks had just been hallucinamations and that he'd gone totally bonkers. Then he had a revelation.

It was _evil_ Starfire.

That _had_ to be it! There was an evil Starfire in Metropolis doing things to ruin the real Starfire's reputation! Okay, so the skin was orange and the eyes were green and the hair was red, that didn't mean anything. You could do all kinds of wonderful stuff in Photoshop these days. He knew, he'd done most of it.

This was awful, they had to stop this! Before Starfire knew it had ever happened, if possible!

No.

Wait.

_He_ had to stop this.

If the other Titans knew there was an evil Starfire around... they might start to think about other evil clones being around.

And that... that could lead to... to things he needed people not to be led to.

No, he knew what he had to do.

He had to go to Metropolis on his own, and kick evil Starfire's butt, and make her turn into swirly light again or however it worked. It was bad to leave the tower and his friends alone, but there wasn't any way he could drag Trickster out to beat him up, so he'd just have to make it a really, really _quick_ trip and hope his evil self didn't do anything nasty while he was gone. The other reason to make it quick was that the longer he left evil Starfire alone, the more time the others would have to accidentally see evil Starfire on the net. Hopefully if he stopped her she wouldn't get as big a billing anymore on the site. Maybe he could talk to the people who ran the site, too. They had their address right on the front page. He could start from there.

But how was he going to explain his trip to the others? It wasn't like Robin hadn't bitched at him constantly for talking about their Tokyo trip being a vacation. Leisure trips, no way. Maybe he could say it was a Doom Patrol emergency? But then Robin might contact the Doom Patrol.

Hm.

He'd just have to say he found a lead on Fixit. Robin and Cyborg had both been obsessing over the villain-that-got-away, and the nameless 'supplier.' They'd want to come with him though... so he couldn't tell them in person. No, he'd just have to leave a note or something and run off and not tell them where he was going, and let them be pissed at him when he came back empty-handed.

He'd have to 'forget' his communicator, too.

Ohhhh, Robin was gonna chew him out _so_ bad when he got back.

He had to do this _now_, before he lost his nerve. Robin in leader mode could be almost as scary as Raven in demony mode. He'd probably learned it from Batman.

He found the sticky notes, scribbled quickly, left the note on the fridge, 'dropped' his communicator under the couch, and was out the window and soaring free as the bird he literally was in under a minute, too freaked out over the risks of what he was doing to really enjoy the warm sunny breeze.

It took five minutes before he remembered he didn't know the way to Metropolis. He had to stop by a library (the second time he'd ever set foot in one in Jump City, after finding out they didn't carry comics) and ask a librarian for a map. Even with the map, it took him a long time to figure out which way to go. The tiny, crowded print made his head ache, and it seemed like every time he blinked Metropolis was in a different place. But he finally managed to figure out his heading and shouted a thanks to the nice librarian before heading out. For some reason the librarian didn't seem to appreciate it. Maybe he hadn't yelled it loud enough? It was a big library, and had all those bookshelves in the way, probably hard to hear him right from all the way over there. Oh well.

He morphed back into a bird, soared valiantly upwards... and smacked straight into something hard with a pained caw, the closest he could manage to 'Ow!' as a bird.

"Aww man, not you _again_," he moaned as he saw what he'd flown into. "I don't have time for this!"

"Miserable do-gooder!" the Russian Doll roared. "You got feathers in my wood!"  
"Yeah, well, you got wood in my feathers! Now go back to prison before I make you! I've got bigger tofu to fry right now! How did a lame crook like you even escape, anyway?!"

"Hmph! My fellow evildoer Cinderblock coordinated an escape plan with my brains backed by his brawn."

"Yeeaaahhh. He just smashed out on his own and you went through the big hole he left behind, right?"

The Russian Doll looked down at the ground meekly. "Yes..."

"Thought so. Now, seriously, go turn yourself in. I've got places to be and people to wail on."

"What?! You dare imply that the mighty Russian Doll is not worthy of your time?! I AM FILLED WITH-"

"Tinier women, yeah yeah, and that's not really helping your case any. Look, do I really need to turn into a t-rex, grab you in my mouth, and spit you in the direction of the prison? 'Cause I _so_ will."

They were attracting a small crowd of bored citizens who had nothing better to do with their time than stare at a superhero and a supervillain... well, a minivillain anyway... arguing.

"I demand a proper duel with witty banter and dramatic poses! You treat me as if I'm an unworthy foe, but I have committed foul and felonious deeds! Why, I was stealing something just five minutes ago!"

Beast Boy's eyes narrowed suspiciously. He couldn't see anything valuable-looking on her painted wooden body. Maybe she hid the loot inside her, though. "Yeah? What did you steal, then?"

"These hotel towels!" Hahahah! Do you see, how soft and clean they are?! They have the insignia of a specific hotel that they are no longer at, because I _stole_ them!" she crowed triumphantly, producing the towers from thin air, as far as Beast Boy could tell, and waving them in his face.

"You call that evil?" he demanded disbelievingly. "Dude, _everyone_ does that. Even _I_ did, one time back in... uh, nevermind," he suddenly interrupted himself nervously, noticing that more and more people were coming to look at them in mild fascination. "The point is, you're crazy, and you have to the count of ten to go back to jail, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred gold coins, before I _make_ you go. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six! Seven! Eight! Eight and a half! Eight and three-fourths... hey, stop giving me the finger! You know what, I'm gonna count that as ten."

He went pterodactyl, grabbed her in his talons, and flew off towards the prison as quick as he could. Every second counted, there was no time to waste, but he just _couldn't_ leave a bad guy on the streets, even if it was a really pathetic one. It was against the superhero code, he was pretty sure, along with having non-concealed pockets on the uniform.

And killing people.

The sudden depression that thought brought on left him a little careless, and somehow the Russian Doll managed to get a grapple hold around his neck. At least she was enthusiastic. With an annoyed screech, he landed on a rooftop and turned into himself against just long enough to slip out of her grip.

"You got splinters in my neck. Jerk," he growled, picking them out and morphing into a t-rex. Well, he'd _said_ he was going to.

Snapping down on the enemy didn't have the desired effect, though. Instead of securing her, his jaws were somehow being pushed apart... and once they were as wide as they could get, he realized that she'd had her mini-selves climb out and form a human ladder. Well, wooden doll ladder. Whatever. He tried to poke out the middle doll with his tongue, but all he got for his trouble was a bad taste in his mouth. Shaking his head finally sent the dolls flying, and he quickly turned into an octopus to gather them all up in a pile before going pterodactyl again. This time he managed to fly all umpteen dolls all the way to the prison, but when he tried to drop them, they formed another ladder, with the biggest one clinging to his foot!

It wasn't _fair_. He'd beaten _Slade_ and he was having trouble getting rid of someone _this_ lame?! He almost felt like crying over the sheer dumbness of it all.

The aerial struggle took them away from the prison by a few blocks, and then he gave up and landed on another rooftop, deciding that he would at least have some nice, stress-relieving screaming at her before he gave up and went back to the tower to get his friends to help lock her up again, and hope they hadn't seen his note yet.

"What is _wrong_ with you?!" he hollered, almost pulling his hair out as he made sure that each and every doll got the full focus of his pissed offness. "You're not even a two-bit villain! You're like someone who wants to be a villain but doesn't know how! Even Control Freak is a better bad guy than you, and _his_ last big plan involved a mechanical shark! I've got _real_ bad stuff to stop, so would you _please_ just go to jail, and I promise I'll fight you seriously the next time I see you, okay?!"

The dolls climbed back into each other, which for some reason struck Beast Boy as vaguely gross, and the final, largest doll crossed her arms over her chest, looking stoic. It gave Beast Boy flashbacks to movies with evil teacher nuns, and he was glad she didn't have a ruler. Although, since she was made of wood, it was technically possible to think of her entire self as one big ruler. Ow. "What could possibly be more important to a hero than stopping a dangerous supernaturally-powered criminal? Why are you so frantic, where's the world crisis? Is it zombies? Pirates? Ninjas? Ninja pirate zombies? Vampires? Robots? Evil clones? Well?! If I am to be stood up I would like to at least know who you think is more worthy of your time than me!"

"That last one," Beast Boy said tiredly, running a hand over his hair. "Evil clone stuff. Look, my friend's rep is gonna turn to crap if I don't nip-bud this thing like pronto, and the longer I'm away from them, the more danger they're in, too. So, if you have anything nice and humany in that freaky wooden body of yours, would you _please_ go back to prison? I promise I'll fight you next time... look, I'll even come to jail if you haven't broken out again and we can have a no holds barred steel cage match or something like that. Scout's honor."

"Were you ever a Boy Scout?" she asked instantly.

Dang. He'd been afraid that she'd ask that.

"Uh, s-sure, totally!"

"What's their motto, then?"

"Uh... a hamster in the hand is worth five and a half in the shrubbery?"

"Hm, lying's not very heroic. Maybe you're an antihero. You should get a big gun and take up smoking. And try to scowl more. I'm sure it'll work out well with that cute little fang sticking out thing you've got going on."

"I'm not always a very _good_ hero," he growled. "So don't push me. Are you gonna surrender or not?"

"You say that your friends are in danger while you leave them alone, yes?"

"Yeeeeeeees. Not that that has anything to _do_ with you, so stop _delaying_ me..."

"I want a fair and just battle when I next face the full force of the Titans in combat! It's not enough to beat you all, I must defeat you all when you are at your strongest!"  
"You really like to stick to your role, don't you?"

"Let me help you."

"...what?"

"Let me help you defeat this clone! I swear to you by my oaken body I will not betray you. If you let me aid you in your noble quest, I can speed things up. The quicker we beat the clone, the quicker you can get back to your friends, and the sooner they'll be safe. That way, I'll be able to fight you all at your tip-topiest condition!"

"Dude, are worms eating your brain?! Why would I take a criminal all the way to Metropolis with me?! That's gotta be breaking like ten jillion hero code rule thingies!"

"Oh, don't be such a prude, you're already one-tenth antihero! Don't think I didn't read all those newspaper articles about all the mean pranks you pull on your friends, like that time you infected Cyborg with a virus."

"That was totally on accident!"

"And your teammate Starfire was significantly angry for you at one point for being ballooned with motor oil."

"Dude, how does anyone else even _know_ about that? Do the tabloid people have spies in our place?!"

"And then there was the Spork Incident."

"...okay, fine, whatever. You're still a bad guy. Bad guys don't get to work together with good guys."

"Come on, I was going to be released in a week and a half anyway."

"...seriously?"

"Seriously!"

"Then why did you break out?!"

"We don't get cable in there! I was missing Trading Spaces!"

"Ub... bu... wuh..." Beast Boy spluttered, then closed his eyes and rubbed his nosebridge. "Okay. You know what? Fine. You can come with me. _Only_ because it's less trouble than putting you back in jail, and _only_ because I know there's no way you could ever be a threat."

"Ooohh, we'll see who's threatening who once we get back from this and are once again arch-foes."

"Dude, you are _not_ my arch-foe. Why can't Cyborg be your arch-foe? He's the one that plastered you like, ten jillion times."

"Oh yeah. I hate him. That reminds me, I've been wondering... are you his sidekick?"

"What?! No! Why would you _think_ that?!"

"Well, you're next to him a lot, and you two have a lot of special fighting moves you do together, and sometimes he gives you piggyback rides..."

"So?! Why can't he be my sidekick?!"

"You're smaller than he is."

"I can't help my metabolism!"

"You can turn into any kind of animal you want, so doesn't that mean that you _can_ help your-"

"Just shut up and get on my back," Beast Boy moaned, going pterodactyl.

He knew it was a dumb thing to do. But what was one more dumb thing in a day filled with really, really dumb things? And anyway, it would've been lonely going all the way to Metropolis and back by himself. And who knew, she might even be useful backup in a fight, in case he got jumped by Intergang or something. She seemed durable and persistant enough to be a pain in _anyone's_ butt.

He flew like a pterodactyl driven by demons, and didn't stop until, between his tiredness and nightfall, he managed to plow into a tree.

"Ow. That looks painful," the Russian Doll commented.

"Sccrrch," Beast Boy hissed, dropping her onto the grass and turning back to normal. "Yeah, thanks for the sympathy."

"Where are we stopping for the night?"

"Right here. Goodnight," Beast Boy said firmly, morphing into an armadillo and curling up in hopes that he'd be able to evade the morning dew that way.

"Here? In the middle of the wilderness?"

Beast Boy gave an armadillo sigh and morphed back into himself briefly. "What do you care? You're made of wood!" Then back to armadillo again.

"But you're not."

Human. "Yeah, well, animals sleep like this all the time, and right now I'm gonna be an animal, because it'd take too much time to find a hotel and get a room reserved and stuff..." Armadillo.

"Don't you even want a shower in the morning?"

Grrr. Human. "Showers just wash away my natural scent! Bathing is against the laws of nature!" Armadillo.

"Oh, so that's why you Cheeto stains on your fingers."

Human. "I do _not_ have-" Oh. Wait. He did. "Uh. It was for a good cause." Armadillo.

"You were probably stuffing your face while playing video games. You disgusting flesh-based creatures are all the same."

Human. "It was _not_ video games, it was Animal Planet!" Armadillo.

"What show?"

Human. "That show with the meerkats." Armadillo.

"Oh, they're so cute, aren't they?"

Human. "Eh, I guess. I was mostly watching it 'cause Star wanted to. Now will you go to sleep already?" Armadillo.

There was about ten minutes of silence, and finally Beast Boy popped his eyes open and stared at the Russian Doll.

"What's the matter?"

Human. "Dude! Stop _looking_ at me! I told you to go to sleep!"

"I don't sleep. I'm made of wood."

"Well, stop looking at me, anyway. It's creepy."

"Villains are supposed to be creepy," she muttered, turning around in the opposite direction.

Armadillo.

Silence.

Then...

Human.

"Look, let's just keep going, okay? I can't sleep."

"Look, this may be important, but you can't go all the way to Metropolis without rest. It's not as though I'm planning to stab you in the back while you're dreaming or anything."

He stared at her suspiciously.

"Really. I'm not. Girl Scout's honor."

"You were never a Girl Scout were you?"

"No. They're woodcists."

"Wha?"

"Like racists, but for wood."

"Oh. Okaaaay," he said with a yawn. "Let's get going, alright? I'll take a nap when I have to."

"You can't fly like this!"

"So we'll walk," he snapped, starting off on foot.

They walked.

After the fifth time he stumbled over a fallen branch, the Russian Doll picked him up and carried him in her arms. "I don't get tired, it's easier this way."

"'Kay... thanks... and don't think about trying anything funny, 'cause I've got my... eye... on... you..."

Sleep came, and with it came dreams of a cackling version of himself with gray skin and glowing red eyes that made lewd gestures and called up legions of zombie chihuahuas to gnaw the fingers off of everyone good in the world.

_"Light a candle for the sinners... set the world on fiiiiiiiiirrrrrreeee..."_

"Gah!"

Beast Boy jolted awake, thinking that he probably shouldn't have listened to that Manson cd before giving it to Raven. Then he realized he'd been sleeping in the arms of a villain.

"GAH!"

Thud.

"Would you like some donuts for breakfast before we continue our journey to smite the doppelganger and go back to Jump so that I may wreak my wicked vengeance on your pathetic friends? I got raspberry-filled ones."

Beast Boy brushed himself off and staggered to his feet, picking sleep out of his eyes. "Dude, how did you get donuts?"

"I stole them."

"_What_?! _Bad_ Russian Doll! Bad! No treat for you!"

"Well, I _am_ evil," she said, the words slightly muffled by the donut she had crammed in her mouth.

"Stop eating! There's no profit in crime! We're gonna return those donuts to wherever you got them from!"

"Okay, but they'll just throw the opened merchandise away anyway. And it's a really long walk back. It'll delay our important quest by quite a few hours."

"I... but... oh, _fine_! You can have the stupid donuts! But on the way back we're paying for it!"

"Sure, sure. Want one?"

"I'm not going to enjoy stolen donuts!"

"Fine, be a masochist..."

"A whatochist?"

"Mashochists are people who enjoy hurting themselves."

"I am _so_ not a masochist," Beast Boy protested. Although, when he thought about it, that would explain why he kept bugging Raven even though he knew she was just gonna hurt him for it. He tried to make her smile or have fun, she didn't want to, he went just a little too far, she overreacted and smacked him or threw him out a window. It was kinda their 'thing.'

Five hours later, realizing he hadn't brought any money with him and that he was _starving_, he gave in and ate the rest of the donuts in the box, swallowing them practically whole. The Russian Doll just smirked and said nothing.

By the time his first whole day with her ended, and the journey's second nightfall had arrived, he didn't know how he would have gotten on _without_ her. She was really easy to talk to, for a villain, even if she did sometimes drift off into melodramatic speeches. She never got tired and was happy to give him rides whenever he wanted, so long as he didn't turn into a cat and use her for a scratching post. And for some reason she had a serious squirrel phobia going on. She had a weird full body desert woman disguise (he hoped no one would mistake her for a terrorist) so she could go around in public without people spazzing out... which was more than _he_ could say, unless he was morphed into a really small size or flying high above everything. She tried to steal things pretty much constantly whenever they went inside to a gas station or other cheap store, but she never tried to steal anything _really_ valuable, or make a scene, and she didn't fight when he smacked down her criminal urges every time he caught her. She even had a better sense of geography than he did, and kept them from getting lost umpteen times. The best part, though, was when she suggested to keep on carrying him each night while he got some sleep. It cut their travel time... not exactly in half, since she couldn't move as fast as he could in a travelling animal form, but still by a pretty darn good amount.

Through it all, the only thing that spoiled it was the constant fear that kept gnawing away at him, quietly, unnoticeably to the Russian Doll, but constantly. He was afraid that he was doing the wrong thing in not telling the Titans everything he knew. He was afraid he was doing the wrong thing in leaving them alone. He was afraid he was doing the wrong thing in going to Metropolis to confront an evil clone who could have all manner of tricks up her sleeves... even if he _had_ beaten her once. _His_ evil self had gotten stronger. Maybe Star's evil self had, too.

At the Russian Doll's insistence, Beast Boy took his one and only bath of the trip in a pond a few miles outside of Metropolis. Fish to swim, dog to shake it all off, and then back to himself again. Easy-peasy. He didn't know why he didn't do that more often, it was _way_ more convenient than a shower, with all the undressing, and redressing, and lathering, and scrubbing, and singing in falsetto.

"Get back in there!"

"What?! I'm _done_!"

"You're not done until I _say_ you're done, puny mortal! Have some stolen soap!"

A bar of Irish Spring clocked him in the head.

Grumbling about how villains needed to learn their place in life, he went back in and had a longer bath, hoping the soap wouldn't hurt the frog that peeped on him the whole time.

"Aww, man! I'm so _stupid_!" he lamented, a random thought popping up once they reached the ridiculously huge WELCOME TO METROPOLIS sign (as if anyone could _miss_ it). "I could've just taken the T-Ship and been here in like half a day!"

"You know how to fly a ship?" the Russian Doll asked, sounding impressed.

"Uh, well, mostly the computer does the flying. And Cyborg and Robin, 'cause they have master control thingies... heh, I guess taking the T-Ship wouldn't have been a great idea after all. I don't know how to refuel it or anything."

"Y'know, you never explained to me why you're doing this separately from the rest of your team. Or why they're in danger when they're away. Why didn't all five Titans come here for the smack down?"

He thought it over for a moment. She seemed to have proven herself as semi-trustworthy, as far as wooden kleptos went. He supposed he could trust her with a sort of vague outline of what was going on, if not the _details_.

"Because they don't _know_ about it yet. And I wanna keep it that way. Star's evil twin clone doppelwhatsit is doing some really squicky stuff, and she's better off not knowing it ever happened."

"But why are they in danger while you're gone?"

"Because there's _another_ doppelkajigger back in Jump, and I haven't figured out how to catch him yet, and they don't know about him."

"Why don't you tell them?"

"Because he might be doing squicky stuff too, okay?! Are you done with the twenty questions crap?"

"But still, why-"

"DROP IT," Beast Boy said in his best Raven impression.

Apparently his best Raven impression was good enough to scare people into not talking for twenty-five whole minutes. Who knew?

The address for the Metropolis Menagerie was smack dab in the middle of some place called Hell's Gate. Yeah, _that_ wasn't ominous or anything. They got directions from a gas station attendant who looked at them dubiously, and walked the rest of the way, while taking in the sights (wistfully on Beast Boy's part, and greedily on the Russian Doll's).

"Look at that one! Her purse is on a teeny-weeny spaghetti strap. She _wants_ to be robbed. It's so obvious she's crying out for excitement and adventure in her life!"

"Aww. Don't worry, I'll let you steal something on the way back to make up for it."

"Really?"

"No." Heheh. So _this_ is what it felt like to be sarcastic for the sheer fun of it. Maybe Raven was on to something after all.

Hell's Gate was a crappy slum, just like he'd expected. No less than _three_ people tried to mug them, thinking he was just wearing a costume. A few seconds of being next to a green t-rex changed their minds really quick, though. Heh, no matter how many times he did it, scaring the bejeezus outta people by turning into a dino never got old.

The Metropolis Menagerie announced itself with an electrical neon sign that showed plenty of naughty bits, and looked to be doing pretty good business, considering that it wasn't just large, but _cleaner_ than every other building around it. From what he could tell through the windows, it seemed to be a club as well as a movie studio.

"Okay, dude, huddle."

The Russian Doll huddled obediently.

"Here's the plan. We go in, ask the manager type people where evil Starfire is, then get her alone in a broom closet or something and kick her hiney with mad ninja stealthy skills. When she's beat up enough she'll turn into glowy light and go away. Mission accomplished. Then we go back out, act like nothing happened, and get back to Jump."

"Simple, like most plans heroes come up with. Can't we do something involving mind control and Kirby dots?"

"No, because I _hate_ that hypno crap and I don't know what that second thing you said is."

"Fine, whatever. And here I thought you were the _fun_ Titan."

"Hey, I _am_ the fun Titan! I'm super-fun! Watch how fun I am!" He turned into a lemur and did cartwheels to the door and into the building, past a bewildered couple just leaving.

"Okay, that's pretty fun," the Russian Doll relented, following. "It'd be more fun if you did it as a chimp though."

He morphed back and took a look around. It was hard to see much beyond a bar and a lot of fancy lights. "Hey, everyone likes lemurs... dude, is this Mardi Gras day here or what? Like half the people here are in costumes!"

And so they were. Costumes with a _theme_. Spandex was predominant, and so were capes. People from all walks of life and all types of bodies were dressing up as every superhero under the sun with varying degrees of accuracy. Costumes of the Teen Titans seemed especially numerous, and costumes of _Starfire_ even more so, which caused Beast Boy's eyes to glaze over as he inwardly battled between the concept of hot ladies in skimpy clothes and hot ladies who were hot because they were trying to look like _Starfire_. Seeing a fat, middle-aged guy in one of those same outfits snapped him out of it, though.

"Ugh, dude. Where's Raven to say 'Eww' when you need her?"

"Eww," the Russian Doll helpfully obliged.

"You're not doing it right, your voice needs to be _way_ flatter, and a little raspier, and you need to have this, like, intensely apathetic disgust for everything in life lurking just behind your tone."

"Ewwww?" she tried again.

"Aww, forget it." He wandered over to the bar, and after waving his hand in the air frantically for about a minute, he finally got the baretender's attention.

"'Sup, nice costume man! How'd you get the fur to stay on?"

"This isn't a costume. I'm Beast Boy and I wanna see Starfire."

"Psh, stop yankin' me. Do you have _any_ idea how often I hear... that..." the bartender slowed to a halt as he locked eyeballs with a gorilla. "Uh, the offices and studio are upstairs, sir," he said hastily, pointing to a spiral stairway in the middle of the dance floor. "Third floor."

"Gotcha. Thanks." He turned towards the stairs, but suddenly found himself mobbed by fans who all seemed to be various degrees of sweaty, drunk, or slutty. It was with _great_ self-control on his part that he didn't hit on the slutty ones.

"OhmyGAWD, it's the REAL Beast Boy!"

"Can I have your autrograph?!"

"I'm your number one fan, Beast Boy! I named my pig after you!"

"Beast Boy, sign my tits!"

"Hey, BB, is it true that you and Robin are gay lovers?"

"Guys, ladies, thanks for the attention, but SERIOUSLY, I need to get going!" he said, trying to push them away. Since his regular form's muscles could be charitably described as underdeveloped, it didn't work too well.

So he changed into a velociraptor and gave everyone a nice big warning screech, and watched in satisfaction as they backed off.

"That's better. I'm sorry dudes, but I'm on official Titans business, okay?" That seemed to do the trick, because while he heard a chorus of moans and subdued whines, they gave him his space.

"Okay, Doll, let's get going. Man, it's a good thing I'm stopping this _now_," he muttered as they climbed the stairs. "Look at how popular this place is. There's gotta be like a hundred people just dressed up as Starfire, and this is on a _Thursday_. It's totally bud-nipping time."

At the third floor he was halted by a nasal-voiced secretary. He wondered if secretaries were forced by their contracts to sound like that or something. On the bright side, at least he didn't have the wonderful mixed perfume of puke, booze, smoke, and horny people to bug him anymore. The third floor looked like any office did. It was equipped with an annoyingly bland carpet, even blander walls, a slightly chilly temperature, and plenty of ventilation.

"I'm sorry, sir, but this area's for employees and financial investors _only_."

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. Was he gonna have to change into an animal _every_ time he wanted people to figure out he was the real Beast Boy and not some cheap fan knockoff?

Oh well, a quick change into a dilophosaurus put the fear of green into her.

He didn't care what _anyone_ said, dinosaurs solved _everything_.

"Oh, I'm _sorry_ I didn't recognize you, sir! We've just got so many imitators lately..."

"Yeah, yeah. I wanna see Starfire, okay?"

"Oh, she's in the middle of scene, but I think they're almost done. I'll just have Fred show you to her dressing room so you can wait there. I assume your, ah, Islamic friend would like to come with you?"

"Actually, I'm Rasta-"

Beast Boy clapped a hand over the Russian Doll's mouth. "Yes! Yes, she would. Pleaseandthankyou."

"Oh, and this is just between you and me... I know you're still _technically_ underage, but I'm sure the guys upstairs could work something out, if you wanted to join Starfire in the filming experience," the secretary whispered conspiratorially. "The things you could do for us... I mean, the mileage we'd get out of horses _alone_ would be-"

"Okay, fine, I'll keep that in mind," Beast Boy interrupted quickly, paling to a watery gray-green and trying not to puke. He could honestly say that that thought had _never_ come to him before, and he really, _really_ hoped it would never come to him _again_. "Someone douse my brain in Clorox and set it on fire, please," he whimpered as he let Fred guide him and his evil sidekick (well, she _was_, wasn't she?) to the dressing room.

It was just like the dressing rooms he'd seen in movies, except that it was littered with all kinds of little trinkets and doodads. Flowers, dresses, jewelry, candy, boxes and letters galore, expensive and fragile-looking underwear that he tried not to stare at... man, evil Starfire was living it up! He didn't get that much junk from fans in... he'd _never_ gotten that much junk from fans! It wasn't fair! Maybe if shipping from Japan to the US were cheaper... he just _knew_ those Japanese fangirls were _dying_ to love him...

Well, he had time to kill... because he sure as heck wasn't gonna go into wherever they were filming and see whatever evil Starfire was doing! So he started poking around to see what interesting treasures could be found in the Starfire clone's lair.

"Are you sure you should be doing that?" the Russian Doll asked, weirdly being the voice of caution.

"Chill out, I'm just looking. Ooh, a carrot! Still looks good, too..."

"You don't know where that's beeeeen," she warned him in a singsong voice.

"Huh? Whadda you... oh. OH! EWWW! Duuude, gross." He dropped the carrot, gagging, and rubbing his hand frantically on his pants, quickly going over to the other side of the room to continue exploring.

"Hey, what's this?" he thought out loud, holding up a long piece of curved, semi-translucent pink plastic. "It's got straps on... oh, I know, novelty hat!" He strapped it on his head and preened in the mirror. "Beast Boy, you are one sexy superhero."

"You do realize you're wearing a strap-on dildo, right?"

"ACK!" With a screech of utmost horror, he tore the thing off and threw it away, then turned into a mouse and hide behind the Russian Doll's legs, deciding that anything else in the room was not meant for man to know.

"I knew I should've snagged a camera. Imagine what a pic of that would have fetched on Ebay," the Russian Doll said with a wistful sigh.

"Grossgrossgrossgrossgrossgross!" Beast Boy turned back into human form to whimper.

"What is gross, friend Beast Boy?"

"_You_!" he snarled as he whirled around.

"Me?" a totally naked Starfire clone said innocently, blinking.

"Gah! Yes, you... and put some clothes on!" he demanded, covering his eyes. "And stop playing innocent... I know you're the _evil_ Starfire, even if you still somehow _look_ like her!"

"Evil, or just misunderstood, _friend_ Beast Boy?" she asked mockingly. He peeked and was relieved to see she was putting on a robe. "What are you doing here? I came here to get _away_ from all you fools, I do not need you _following_ me."

"You're ruining Starfire's reputation! You shouldn't even _exist_! I'm telling you right now, you better turn into light and go float back into Star again, or we're gonna have to _make_ you."

Evil Starfire's eyes seemed catlike in their unblinking stare. It was creepy. "I have as much right to the name Starfire as my weaker half does. I am not giving _that_ up, let alone my _existence_. If that is all you have come for then you have wasted your time, you pathetic little boy."

"Then we're gonna have to do this the hard one," he said grimly, cracking his knuckles.

One of those tiny eyebrows raised elegantly. "And what have I done to deserve death, hmm? Oh, _I_ know..." she said, tone suddenly brightening in a faintly sinistar way as she took a few steps closer to him. "You just need a little of the... _persuasion_..."

All of a sudden her body was pressed up against his, and her robe was starting to slip down her shoulders. Starfire had always been the most physically fit Titan after Robin, and Beast Boy had very definite proof of that now. Was it a turn on? Sure. But overwhelming it was a vast sense of wrongness almost to the point of nausea. It was a hot body, but it was _Starfire's_ body. Starfire loved Robin. Robin loved Starfire, even if he had trouble admitting it. It was liking running your hands over someone else's Ferrari. You just didn't _do_ it.

"Hello? I'm still here too, you know," the Russian Doll said with mild irritation, hands crossed over her chest.

He tried to push evil Starfire away, but it was like pushing against iron. She clearly wasn't going anywhere unless she wanted to... or he morphed into something really strong.

"Stop it! I mean it, Starfire clone!"

Tapping her foot impatiently, the Russian Doll grabbed a pitcher of water nearby and unceremoniously threw the contents into evil Starfire's face. Evil Starfire didn't seem to care, but her skin started... melting? No, it was just something coated on _top_ of the skin, sliding off. Beneath, the skin was gray, just like Trickster's.

"Makeup?" he wondered aloud.

"And contacts," the half-gray, half-orange-faced evil Starfire said. Her nails racked down his spine so hard it hurt, like dull knives. "So you are saying you do not want me? Think about it, Beast Boy... it is not as though the _other_ Starfire would want you... this is your only chance to-"

"How about we stop the succubus routine right there?" the Russian Doll interrupted, ignoring the sudden cold fury in evil Starfire's expression. "I've got some Titans to duel with properly, and I can't do that until we've defeated you, so then... HAVE AT THEE, SLUT!"

Evil Starfire casually used Beast Boy as a shield, which resulted in about a dozen hard knocks to his body before he could convince her to stop 'helping.'

"Ow! Ow! OW, hey, STOP THAT!"

"I'm evil, why should I care if I have to hurt you to get to her? It's a classic hostage situation! You just shoot _through_ the hostage!"

"This is counting as our steel cage match you jerk!"

"Pathetic," evil Starfire said, her voice regal and chilly. She tossed Beast Boy down like a sack of flour. "I am minding the business that is my own, and in my own way am more loved by the people of this planet than _you_ are, for my grace, my unbridled emotion, my beauty and power."

"Your gaping, STD-riddled vagina," the Russian Doll muttered. Evil Starfire seemed to pretend not to hear.

"I am everything that my lesser self is, only cranked up the notch! I do no harm, only giving people _exactly_ what they want!"

"You're not anything like her!" he said angrily. "She makes people's lives brighter wherever she goes! What do _you_ do? Jerk people around by their wangs?! She's a real star, but you... you're just a foggy cloud over the sky, making it so people can't think clearly... you may give people what they want, but you don't do anything _good_ for them..."

"So call me Darker, then," evil Starfire said with a prim shrug, mouth curled sneeringly. "I have learned to appreciate steely."

"Irony," Beast Boy corrected automatically.

"Hmph, whatever metal it is. The others have the naming scheme on the go, so I may as well longingly play with it."

"The _others_! I _knew_ it! You are _too_ evil, you've been talking to Trickster and... and, who's the other one!? Is there an evil Cyborg too?! What about Robin and Raven, do they have evil selves too or not?!"

"They have been requesting my aid in destroying the Titans, but I could not care less on wasting time on such a worthless endeavour. I am here to get away from you... so be gone, before I grow angry and make you go. I have done nothing wrong from the perspective of any law-abiding official!" She turned to her mirror-and-table combo and started taking out her contacts, seemingly hoping that they would go away if she simply ignored them.

"It doesn't matter what you have or haven't done," Beast Bow half-growled, half-whispered. "You're all the bad that Starfire doesn't want to admit to having inside, you're not supposed to _exist_. You _can't_ exist. _I_ can't _let_ you exist..."

She turned around and stared cattishly at him again, one contact still in, the other out and revealing a very red eye. Between that and the partial makeup, she made a very disturbing image. "What is it about me that you are afraid of?" she demanded, voice smooth, gentle, and ever so slightly predatory.

He was afraid of everything she represented, of course. Her and Trickster and any other evil or not so evil doubles that were lingering around. He'd built his whole life on pretending nothing mattered, everything was fine, just grin and bear it and it didn't matter. They were walking, talking evidence that there was something underneath the smile that wanted to snarl. They would tear everything open between the Titans, leave emotions raw to the fresh air and old wounds exposed and bleeding again, and that was more than enough reason to destroy them all, even aside from the horrible secret between him and Trickster. His family had worked hard to get to where they were. They'd gone through Slade, the Brotherhood, Brother Blood, and Trigon, to get to where they were. They had a _routine_. They knew how to act around each other, they knew how to like each other and cooperate through combat and goof around and just _be_ together, and he wasn't going to let anything mess that up by suggesting that maybe there were things they wanted deep inside that they weren't getting! They didn't _want_ anything, they didn't _need_ anything, except what they had right _now_, and anything else was a damn lie!

So instead of replying to her, he turned into a tiger and pounced. No snarl escaped his mouth, only a hissing pant of air. This had to be done quick and quiet. The warmth of her body was in and of itself almost like an insult. She wasn't a real person, why did she have to feel alive?!

The sickest thing of all was when Darker, instead of fighting back, calmly redid her makeup and put her first contact back in _while being mauled _(even if he couldn't pierce her skin... stupid alien durability!), and then screamed in a perfect damsel-in-distress voice for _help_! As if she _needed_ any! The way she was moving he didn't think he could hold her down even if he went t-rex! She was just _ignoring_ everything he did to her!

Some people busted in, and Beast Boy turned into a monkey, scampering around to evade them while he tried to think of what to do next. Then darkness clamped down on him, and he gave a monkey snarl in rage, banging with his fists. Wood. The Russian Doll had stuck him _inside_ her! She'd turned traitor! Augh, he should have never have let her come with him!

He wondered if turning into something really big inside a small container would squish him or the container, and then further wondered if busting up the Russian Doll would be murder or not. Before he could worry about it too much, though, he was dumped down on some trash-littered, urine-smelling pavement in an alleyway.

"Why'd you mess everything up?!" he screeched at the Russian Doll, waving his hands about angrily. "We could have _had_ her, and you didn't even _help_ or anything!"

"Will you shut up before someone figures out we're back here?" she hissed with such unexpected vehemence that, even as angry as he was, he shut up. "I did you a favor, you runty little moron! How do you think she's going to play this? She'll just pretend to be some innocent victim... not that I'm totally sure she _isn't_, from the conversation you two had! But whatever. We need to figure out a new way to do this, a smarter way. She's too much to subdue quietly in a place like that. We need to plan and figure out a way to corner her where there's no one else around, where we can have a real fight. Or maybe just chloroform her. If that even works on... whatever she is."

"Tamaranian. And I dunno. I... I guess you have some okay points. Okay, I'm sorry for yelling at you."

"No problem. I have a thick skin, knock on wood," she quipped, rapping on her own body. "Look, it's gonna get dark soon... tell you what, let's rent a motel room or something, and sleep on it. We'll be able to think clearer after you have some rest in a real bed and we both have a hot meal or two."

"Yeah, yeah, I guess you're right..."

So they snuck off, nervously evading a _lot_ of people searching around, and even _more_ nervously staying far away from what sounded like police sirens. Getting out of Hell's Gate and to a district with a non-crappy-looking motel was a not-so-fun little adventure all by itself, but they managed. They took a little two-bed room, ordered Chinese for supper, and watched Spongebob on tv before Beast Boy drifted off to sleep on top of the covers.

Apparently even his subconscious figured he had enough to think about, because he didn't dream at all. It was hard to enjoy his sleep, though, because he got woken up by the Russian Doll shaking him with _way_ too much energy.

"Wake up, Beast Boy! Open your eyes, you dimwit!"

"C'monjusfivemoreminuteskay," he murmured, rolling over.

"Open... your... eyes... and... look... at... this!" she said angrily, smacking him with with what seemed to be a rolled up newspaper with each word.

"Fine, fine! Jeez. Do villains never sleep in or something?" he grumbled, sitting up reluctantly and squinting.

The newspaper she'd rolled up was unrolled now, spread out just an inch in front of his face. He stared at the black print for a few moments before actually reading and understanding what he read.

It was a front page headline. A huge one.

**TEEN TITANS IN CHAOS OVER ADULT FILMS**

Then there was the subtitle...

**Starfire physically assaulted in dressing room by Beast Boy and convicted criminal the Russian Doll after shooting of latest adult film**

The article started with a quote from 'Starfire.'

_"They were out of control! I begged for them to understand, this is just another way in which I wish to make the people of this wonderful planet happy, but they said I was a slut and was dirtying the name of the Titans! I could not stop crying but they still would not stop hitting me..."_

He couldn't bring himself to read any more, and his gaze drifted up over the newspaper to look at the Russian Doll, who looked back grimly.

"Oh, shit," he whispered, at a complete loss.

"Yeah, pretty much," she agreed.


	7. Part II, Chapter 2

**I don't know if the old fellow would have considered it a compliment or not, but if I were gonna kill and/or torture someone, I'd definitely do it to Johnny Cash music. Screw the traditional Ave Maria stuff, nothing beats Cash for thematic depth by way of mood contrast. And yes, this comment will make sense once you read the chapter.**

**For those of you sensitive to such things, there's some gore in this chapter.**

Chapter 2: Tainted Sanctuary

It was to Raven's intense relief that, so far, she hadn't made a duplicate of the Wicked Scary incident. In fact, quite a lot of the time she was exactly as calm as she appeared to be... only, rather than being a peaceful or casual calm, it was the sort of calm she recognized as living in a dull state of shock or denial. And there _were_ repercussions in the form of occasional telekinetic explosions, difficulty concentrating on reading, even more difficulty yet with meditation, and extremely unpleasant conversations with herself at night as she stared up at her bedroom ceiling. Still, gifts, horses, mouths. She was coping.

She was also wondering if, maybe, maybe... she should retreat to a monastery or something, and leave the Titans be until she had total mastery over her powers. If she could mess up so badly _once_, she could do it _again_, and if something even half as unpleasant happened to one of her teammates because of it, she'd never be able to forgive herself. She wasn't a very forgiving person by nature. What held her back was a selfish thought... the thought that she probably wouldn't be able to completely explore and control the full depths of her powers in many years, if _ever_. And she'd miss her friends. It was an awful thought, to potentially endanger them for her own neediness... but still, she lingered, caught between the two fears and therefore immobile.

And it was these worries that were running through her mind, again and again, as she walked into the kitchen and started preparing her usual morning cup of tea.

"Good morning, friend Raven!"

"Yo, Rave!"

"Morning, Raven."

"Good morning." She looked around, expecting to see a fourth Titan but not finding him. Then she shrugged and went about her business. Beast Boy _was_ known for sleeping in, after all. She got out some milk to add to her tea, grimacing as she maneuvered past the deadly maze of blue fungi, then paused as she noticed a small yellow square on the floor in front of the appliance. She bent down to pick it up, and turned it over. A notepad. With a note.

She read it to herself quietly, struggling for comprehension through the awful penmanship. When she was sure she'd gotten the whole thing, she read it over again, just to make sure.

"Guys, have any of you seen Beast Boy today?"

They looked at each other, then at her, shaking their heads in unison.

"Beansprout's prolly just sleepin' in, why?" Cyborg chimed in for all of them.

"_'Guys, found possible lead on Fixit. Got to follow trail while fresh. Be back when I have something,'_" Raven read aloud. "And then he put a little heart at the end with two Bs in it."

"That's excellent!" Robin said, pumping his fist in the air.

"The heart? Because I thought it was kinda pathetic," Raven said skeptically, one eyebrow raised.

"The _lead_, Raven. He should have told us first... but nevermind, I'll just call him on the communicator and get a fix on him."

The multi-tone signal chirped merrily in the air, and Raven, Cyborg, and Starfire all reflexively reached for their communicators before coming to their senses.

"Robin, man, are you sure you're callin' BB's communicator? I know the new signalling system I put in a while back can be a little confusing..."

"Don't patronize me, Cyborg, of _course_ I'm calling his communicator!"

They went through a quick scavenger hunt reminiscent of the many Glorious Hunts for the Remote Control before Starfire upended the sofa with one hand and pointed in triumph at the bleeping device that had been laying underneath it.

"Man, how did it even get under there?" Cyborg wondered. Raven wondered with him. It had been right smack dab in the middle of underneath it, not exactly easy to reach or get dropped to.

"Who knows how Beast Boy does these things," Robin said with a sigh. "Well, that's it. We have no way of knowing what's going on, whether or not he could need backup. Let's all head out and start a basic search pattern of the city..."

Raven held up a hand. "Wait."

"Yes, Raven?"

"Let's not panic here. As much of a pain in the neck as Beast Boy is, he's never really let us down when things got serious. Don't forget the Brotherhood incident. And I think he's matured a lot lately..."

Cyborg and Starfire exchanged dubious looks.

"_SLADEBOT!_" Robin accused wildly, a finger jabbing out like a weapon. Raven was about to smack him for it when Starfire saved her the trouble. It was a light smack by Tamaranian standards, which meant that Robin flew facefirst into the sofa, and judged it wiser to remain there for the immediate future. "Sorry..." he muttered, voice muffled by the cushion.

"Anyway," Raven said with as much regal dignity as she could manage, "he's always had his priorities straight when it came to missions. I think we should just relax, let him do his thing, and trust him to retreat and come back when or if he needs help. For now, anyway."

The others thought over the idea. A _trustworthy_ Beast Boy... she could see them turning over the brand-new concept in their heads like a shiny new toy.

"I don't know, there's still the possibility of him being overwhelmed in combat," Robin said finally, still doubtful.

"Yeah, but he can scout out most kinds of bad guys without them knowing he's there," Cyborg put in, more supportive. "And adapt to 'em as he needs to. And, well, if worst comes to worst, he can always do that... you know, that microbe-sized morph thing. To escape or hide."

"Indeed, even his smaller forms grant him great potency that I fear we have previously overlooked," Starfire said quietly. It didn't take an empath to tell she was thinking of Slade.

Robin looked around at them all, then at Raven, who smirked in victory. It was good to be part of a majority, for a change of pace. "Alright, since you all feel this way, I guess we can wait a while before panicking. Even Beast Boy can't get into _that_ much trouble in one day."

"Actually, he can," Raven disagreed. "But I'm sure it'll be the _right_ kinds of trouble."

"Amen," Cyborg said.

"What? Where are these men you speak of?"

"Uh... Robin, you wanna field this one?"

"I, uh, I think theology is really more Raven's-"

"Actually, being the spawn of a demon has made me intensely uninterested in what other people think about spiritual entities. Most of them don't know what they're talking about."

Robin sighed and gave himself in to explaining Christianity to Starfire, while Raven and Cyborg watched and enjoyed with subdued and not-so-subdued amusement, respectively. The only thing missing from the scene was Beast Boy. Not that she had a huge affection for his company over the others, it was just that he was one more necessary, unique piece of the puzzle, and his silliness was a needed element to complete the picture. The Titans were a living practice of personality-based feng shui, and right now they were missing a critical piece of furniture: the kiddie pool.

Still, at least she'd be able to enjoy the quiet while it lasted.

She was doing just that, catching up on a little Paula Volsky in the common room and enjoying the unusual serenity in the air, when Starfire saw fit to interrupt.

"Friend Raven?"

Raven sighed and put down her book carefully. Second to Beast Boy only, Starfire was the best at disrupting her tranquility with her latest inane idea about girling it up. At times Raven suspected her of reading Vogue, even if she never _caught_ the alien at it...

"Yes, Starfire?"

"You have been doing much of the gaping lately. Are you getting satisfactory rest?"

Gaping? Yawning. Somewhere, somehow, someday, someone was going to have to teach that girl proper English. And it was probably going to be Robin.

"Yes, Starfire," Raven said, hastily seeking refuge in her book again. She'd much rather read about drug-addicted incestuous necromancers than talk to Starfire about how she no longer felt safe in her own bed because of what had happened there. "Just fine."

"Are you sure? Your head is drooping..."

"I'm reading a book, of _course_ it's drooping," she snapped. And then immediately yawned. Drat it. "What?" she asked, startled to find Starfire's face just a couple inches from hers. "Personal space, Starfire..."

"Your eyes are shot with blood! Raven, proper sleep is important for any warrior, lest fatigue overwhelm them in combat! Perhaps a glass of warm milk before bed each night will help, I have heard that Cyborg-"

"Thanks but no thanks." Why couldn't the alien ever figure out when people didn't need or want her help?! She was Beast Boy with less humor and more conscience, it was endearing from a distance and disgusting up close.

"Perhaps you would prefer a soporific? I am sure Robin has some, he appears to have many assorted pills and other medicines in stock in his room, and there are of course many more in the room of healing sicknesses as well. Or, I have heard wonderous tales of the party of slumber, a great event where close friends gather together to share secrets and laughter before-"

"_I don't want to go to a damned slumber party!_" Raven burst out angrily, not sure where the sudden surge of rage had come from, like a searingly hot volcanic eruption through a thick crust of weary apathy. Along with it came the old yet always still surprising and refreshing feeling of having four eyes instead of two, with their own heat to share, and an urgent desire to wipe every beating heart clean from the earth, because they were all just mortal vermin, after all, and she hated them _all_...

A bird flying just outside a nearby window suddenly burst into black flames, screeched a brief death-cry, and plummeted out of sight. Then the flames roared back up in a thin tower, curling into a fanged skull that hissed at them before dissolving in the wind.

Starfire stared blankly.

The anger passed as quickly as it had appeared, and shame filled the void behind it. Raven's gaze went to the floor. "Maybe just one night..." she mumbled. No matter how hard she tried to stay in control, her grip _always_ slipped eventually, and she hated herself for it.

"It has been a long time since I have seen you so angry," Starfire said, her voice gentle.

"I'm sorry. It's not your fault. It's, it's me, there's something wrong with me..."

"None the sense," Starfire said primly. "You are a wonderful friend and a glorious Titan and we are all glad to have you here with us. Oh, I have so much to do... I will need to purchase a proper set of pajama garments, and there must be video films of corn and cheese, and creamed ice!"

"...can it be chocolate?"

"Oh, most assuredly! The creamed ice may be any flavor you wish, friend Raven!"

"Okay." Raven smiled faintly.

So they did the sleepover thing, with all due pomp and circumstance. Cyborg even did the traditional sleepover-crasher thing via detached camera-equipped hand, purely for the tradition of the thing, Raven was sure. She and Starfire returned the favor by handing out the traditional pillow beatdown on his hand until it fled, whimpering like a puppy. After the second bowl of ice cream she was even mellow enough to agree to exchange her uniform for a pair of pajamas Starfire had bought expressly for the purpose. They were plain purple, thankfully, and just floppy enough to look ridiculous on her, but she didn't mind. Starfire's own pink, cat-adorned pjs were the same size but fit her, grrr, better-developed Tamaranian body more properly.

Starfire also had a nightlight. This alone would have been funny enough, but it was a _Batman_ nightlight. She wondered what Robin thought of it, if he even knew. And she'd never, _ever_ admit it, but it was actually kind of reassuring to not be in near-total darkness in an unfamiliar room. The soft yellow glow was comforting, and she even gave thought to doing something equivalent in her own room with a candle or two.

Truth or dare wasn't very interesting with just two people. For a moment, a very _small_ moment, she missed Terra, before quickly pushing that stray splinter of emotion out of her consciousness with disgust. They ended up just talking for most of the night while stretched up on top of their sleeping bags. Starfire had gotten _Teen Titans_-themed sleeping bags. A Robin one for herself, and Raven had been given, for some reason, an Aqualad one. She wondered if Starfire was _implying_ something, just because she thought Aqualad was good-looking... but everyone knew he was good-looking anyway! It was so obvious!

"Why are you blushing, friend Raven?"

"Eh? What? I'm not blushing." She reached reflexively for her hood, then ground her teeth when she remembered her cloak was in a corner, discarded.

"But your cheeks are most red, like the underbelly of the arporglangrik during hibernation!"

"It's a trick of the light, Starfire."

"Yes... of course it is..." Starfire said with a smirk, her expression eerily knowing.

"Anyway, can we go to sleep now? I'm exhausted." She was saying it mostly to distract Starfire, but it was _true_, too.

"But we have not done the watching of the Adam Sandler movie, or the-"

"_Next_ time, Starfire."

"There will be a next time, then?" Starfire exclaimed gleefully.

Crap. "Oh... sure, fine, I guess so," Raven relented with a sigh. It was easier to give in than it was to fight.

She _still_ had trouble sleeping, but this time it was because the carpet, padded only by a rather thin sleeping bag, wasn't as comfortable as a real bed. So she stared at the glowing Batman emblem for an indefinite period of time, listening to Starfire's breathing. It was a comforting sound, in a way.

Then Starfire rolled over on top of her, her long red hair enveloping her face like a hydra.

"I hate you," Raven told the still-sleeping Starfire calmly, and squirmed out from underneath, shuffling her sleeping bag a little over to one side.

Then Starfire rolled over _again_, just her arm violating Raven's cherished personal space this time. Raven started to get frustrated, then... she just decided to let it all go. Whatever, it wasn't important. She just laid there with Starfire's arm on top of her, and after a few minutes even started to find it comforting. It gave her flashbacks, more felt than remembered, to a time far back when she had been too young to be tutored by the monks... back to a time when she'd had a mother who'd cared for her, not because she'd _done_ anything, but simply because she _was_. Starfire was like that with _everyone_, basically. Her heart reached out to everyone she knew... so gullible... so naïve... so, so _caring_...

She didn't even realize she'd been crying till she felt it tickle her nose. She sniffed, wiped the tears away, and finally went to sleep, sound as any infant in maternal arms.

The second day without Beast Boy came and went. Though Starfire was starting to worry, she still held fast with the other two in supporting Beast Boy over Robin's doubts. They all spent just a little more time than usual walking around aimlessly, though... a less deliberate form of pacing, getting rid of nervous energy. Beast Boy knew what he was doing. Beast Boy could handle himself. Right? Right.

The third day came, and Raven didn't have too much time to worry about Beast Boy or her own troubles, because Robin woke her up early.

"Starfire, do you know where- oh, there you are, Raven. I didn't know you were still doing the sleepover thing."

"Nnph. Sure. What is it?" she mumbled, sitting up and straightening her hair reflexively. Starfire was still sound asleep, and appeared to be sucking her thumb. "Is there trouble?"

"Sort of. Not an emergency, just... I want you to accompany me to a crime scene."

She was wide awake now. "Just me? What about the others?"

"I... I don't think they need to see this. You can take the time to shower and have breakfast, but after that I need you to come with me, okay?"

"Right." She didn't waste breath asking questions that would probably be answered at the crime scene. She had a quick shower, a quick mug of tea and some cereal, and was ready to go before Starfire or Cyborg were awake.

The fog of early morning was still thick, making it hard to see, so she ended up riding behind Robin on his R-Cycle. It was chilly out, too, and she was secretly glad for the body heat. Maybe she could design an alternate uniform for cold weather. Something with fur. She made a note to ask Red Star about some Russian clothing designs. Due to her 'special' heritage, heat was never a problem, but the _cold_, ugh. Robin explained the situation on the trip, and she even managed to hear it all through the chattering of her teeth.

"It's a murder. A messy one. Definitely not manslaughter. This would normally be something for the police to handle on their own, but some of the evidence leads them to suspect a metahuman was involved. They have a pretty good lead on who they think the killer is, but he's pretty much a cypher... no one knows where he came from or where he's gone to. The prints at the scene aren't helping. Anything Cyborg can do to investigate the scene, I can do just as well, with the cooperation of the police. But I wanted you to come too to see if you can pick up any useful emotional imprints."

It made sense. He hadn't wanted Starfire to be traumatized, and Cyborg could be left at home to spare him the trouble, but _she_ was indispensable. It actually made her feel good to be that valued as a team member... until she remembered the unnerving Raven-Sladebot event and started to wonder if perhaps Robin had ulterior motives and was just using this as an excuse to spend time with her. No, that couldn't be it. Robin was a straightforward obsessive workaholic. Psychoanalyzing him like that was an insult to the team's leader. He was more responsible than that.

"I was hesitant to come here at first, but when I saw a picture of the victim... well. I'll show you, when we get there."

"Ooh. I like mysteries," she deadpanned through the lip-chapping wind. Well, at least it would be a change of pace from fighting Doctor Light or Cinderblock for the nth time. "Now, when you say messy..."

"It was impossible to identify the body by the remains alone," he said grimly. "They're not even totally sure they have all the pieces recovered."

"That's... awful," Raven said, instead of any number of other sarcastic, quipy things she _could_ have said. She'd seen a lot of horrible things in her time as a superhero, but not once had she witnessed a crime so bloody.

They stopped in front of a small house in an average-looking middle-class neighborhood. It was surrounded by yellow crime scene tape that cut a garish ribbon through the fog, and several police cars were parked in front. When they parked next to a car, a dark-skinned officer got out to greet them.

"I'm surprised you kids aren't freezing to death in those thin outfits you've got on," he greeted them with subdued amiability, holding a hand out. "I'm Lieutenant Nobaudee."

"Lieutenant... Nobody?" Robin repeated slowly, clearly sure he had heard that wrong. He still shook the proffered hand, though.

"Yes, Nobaudee," the cop replied wearily, apparently having gone through this many, many times before. "Jim Nobaudee. My father's French, my mom's Swahili, they decided to blend their names together when they got married as a statement of equality between sexes, and this is the appellation I'm cursed with as a result."

"You poor man," Raven said dryly. She was genuinely sympathetic, though. As funny as it was, she could only imagine how annoying it had to be going through life with a name like that. Heck, it was hard enough just going through life being named _Raven_... oh, the goth jokes _never_ stopped coming...

"Anyway, why don't I show you inside? We're done with most of what we need to do here... just mind the tape when you step in the room. Some of the victim's friends are in the living room. We're done questioning them, but kept them around in case you'd like to ask them anything yourself."

"Thanks. I think I'll do that. Raven, why don't you check out the room and see what you can pick up?"  
"Lucky me. By the way, Robin, you never showed me that picture..."

Wordlessly, Robin held up a small school photograph, and she knew instantly why Robin had decided to get involved.

It was _Terra_.

"No," she breathed. Her first emotion was one of raw hatred. Didn't the bitch have anything better to do than to keep on coming back to ruin their lives?! The next ones were guilt and sadness. Terra had been murdered horribly. She hadn't ruined their lives this time. Someone had ruined hers. "I... I didn't even know she'd gotten out of the stone somehow... when did it happen? Why didn't she try to make contact with us? Wait, how do we know it's even her?"

"I'm pretty sure it's her. The statue's gone from the cave. Best guess is that she wanted to make a fresh start. The family she's living with adopted her, she was wandering the streets before that. She called herself Tara, not Terra. And according to my sources, she never once used her powers while in her Tara persona, and never even talked about the Titans."

"Look, uh, maybe you shouldn't go into the actual crime scene," Nobaudee butted in, seemingly unusually hesitant. "I know you're professionals at what you do and all, I'm not questioning that, but... it wasn't a pretty way to go, the way she went. And if you still have some emotional attachment to her..."

"I can handle it," Raven said coldly, before Robin could reply. "Show me."

She was lead past the living room with crying, distraught friends. Robin stopped there to get more details from them, while she was given the pleasure of being escorted upstairs to a room with a closed white door. The gleaming golden doorknob on the thing somehow seemed sinister, like it might bite.

"I'll be right outside the door if you need me for anything," Nobaudee said quietly, seeming to think that she would.

"Right. Thanks," she said curtly. She appreciated the gesture, but she'd been through the end of the world. She could handle one little corpse. That was what she told herself as she opened the door and walked inside, and almost threw up.

The tape indicated a sparse clear walkway area in the middle of the room for viewers. It was sparse because the evidence, in the form of blood and body parts, was scattered all around the room. The white walls were stained red, the furniture was home to various organs, and the sickly odor of death clung to the air like the fog outside.

Terra, or Tara, or whoever she had been, hadn't just been killed. She'd been torn to pieces with wild abandon until there hadn't been two inches of flesh or bone left together, everything tossed all about as if the killer couldn't bear to leave any part of the room clean. One eyeball stared up at her from the middle of the carpet, and another was stuck to a needle that had been jabbed into the bed's pillow. Bones had been cracked and crunched. Most of the flesh was torn up so much that the individual parts were unidentifiable.

Half-demon or no, nothing in her life had prepared her for it, and she put one hand to her mouth, hyperventilating frantically before bringing herself under control. Azarath, metrion, zinthos. It was just a dead body. Parts of a dead body. Lots of parts. Azarath, metrion, zinthos. Dead things didn't hurt anyone. Azarath, metrion, zinthos. _She_ hurt people, though. She was going to find whoever had done this and make them _pay_. Not even a traitor deserved to die like that... Azarath... Metrion... Zinthos...

Even more disturbing than the horror was the feeling of excitement, almost of arousal, that she knew to be coming from her demon side. It was _Terra_! The bitch had _deserved_ it! But the horror and grief and disgust won out easily. No one deserved that. No one.

There was a cd player plugged in, paused in the middle of a song. Feeling that she should at least know what music Terra had been listening to when she'd died, she used her powers, so as to not leave fingerprints, and rewound the track and pressed play. Her ears were immediately assaulted by the sound of incongruously cheerful brass instruments. The volume was loud enough to hurt her ears.

_Love... is a burning thing_

_And it makes... a fiery ring_

_Bound... by wild desire_

_I fell into a ring of fire_

_I fell into a burnin' ring of fire_

_I went down, down, down, and the flames went higher_

_And it burns, burns, burns_

_The ring of fire_

_The ring of fire..._

She flicked the music off. Crime of passion, or just coincidence? Maybe she'd be able to get enough of a psychic imprint to tell. She'd have to use her powers to the fullest now, there was no getting around it. She couldn't afford to be timid. Robin was counting on her, and she knew he knew her limits just as well as she did. They had a connection, and he wouldn't push her harder than she could take. Even if he didn't know about... well, she wouldn't be Raven if she didn't have secrets.

She levitated into the air, crosslegged, and focused herself into a state of utter calm. She had to know what had happened. What the victim had been doing and feeling... who the killer was... everything. She commanded the tiny part of the universe that consisted of this room to bare its secrets to her, sweeping away the concealing curtain of time. And to an extent, the universe obeyed.

She got shards of memory, quick and infrequent at first, but longer and more often as she kept the concentration up. Playful affection, some lust, two teenaged lovers tumbling into bed together to make out... then, a completely incomprehensible turn of events. Shock, confusion, fear. Pain. Lots and lots of pain. More and more. The music was loud for a _reason_. It masked the screams from the hearing of the partygoers downstairs. There was no sense to it, no logic, no reason, no understanding. Just wild, animalistic, happy-hateful cruelty and uncomprehending suffering. Terra had died slowly, she had died a little bit at a time, by tools and weapons and random objects and a boyfriend that somehow took on a thousand different shapes. Actual death was a relief by the time it came, because it meant an end to the fear and physical and mental agony. The void had swallowed Terra up, and she had been glad for it, even knowing that her killer wasn't finished even yet, he was going to defile her corpse until there was nothing left that could be recognized as human. His hatred was something incredible, an elemental force unto itself, screaming and fanatical. It was that very special kind of hatred that Raven recognized from her own life, from hating Terra and Malchior. It was the kind of hate that only came from spoiled love. No other form of hatred had that force of sharp, tainted passion to it. Maybe no other emotion, period.

And that was all she got, because her own whirlwind of emotions threw her out of the trance. She fell flat on the floor, and then scrambled outside hastily, closing the door behind her, panting, eyes wide but not really seeing.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, heard a voice.

"Miss Raven? Miss, are you alright?"

Nobaudee.

"I'm fuh... I'm fine," she said shakily, then belied the statement as she leaned helplessly against a wall, arms wrapped tightly around herself, breathing as though she'd just finished a foot race, her entire body shaking. He didn't let go of her shoulder, and she didn't even care.

"It's okay... it's okay... I'm sorry you had to see that... let's just go downstairs and sit down for a bit," he said in the soothing kind of voice one used on wild animals and hysterical people. She hadn't the presence of mind to argue with him, and let him take her to a chair, and sat down.

At least she stopped panting and shaking by the time Robin saw her. She drew her hood up far enough to conceal even more of her face than usual.

"I think they've told me everything they can," he said quietly. "You okay, Raven?"

Damn him for being perceptive. "Fine," she said, even though they both knew it was a lie. "What did you get?"

They also knew that there was a time to be personal and a time to be professional, and being at a crime scene meant being professional. "She had a boyfriend supposedly from another school, no one knows which one, though. He was really outgoing, silly, and a bit on the prank-loving side. Goofy, but likable. A real heartbreaker, too... classic firm-jawed, baby-faced, slender and muscular type. Only really suspicious personality trait is that he had an explosive temper whenever it came to someone questioning his maturity or intelligence. A real inferiority complex going on. Never beat anyone up, though, just sort of made vague threats. Never got violent. Until now. Terra's foster parents were away for a few days, so she had a party. There was some beer and marijuana but nothing heavier than that. She and her boyfriend went to her bedroom when the party was getting late, and turned on some loud music. Between that and the music already playing, it must have muffled the sounds pretty well. This house is well-made, too, the walls are thick. No one saw the boyfriend come out after that. There's no signs of exit from the windows, either. They didn't realize anything had happened until one of her friends came upstairs to confess about a beer stain on a nice piece of furniture. That's all from my end. Did you have any luck?"

"Yeah," she said quietly. "I... I couldn't get a really _clear_ impression of everything... there was a lot of interference from the, from the victim's emotions." And her _own_, but that was her little secret. "I got a good idea of what went on though. The killer's some kind of shapeshifter or illusionist, I think. He kept changing shapes after he started attacking her. She was... she was alive for most of what he did to her, aside from tearing the corpse into little pieces and scattering them about. He wanted her to suffer, so he killed her slowly, using whatever random ideas that came to his mind. He hated her. It was a really personal kind of hatred. The kind between lovers or close friends. That's all I've got."

"That''ll have to be enough, then. Thanks, Raven. I know that had to be hard for you to do."

It hadn't been _hard_, not in the sense of being difficult. It had just been really, _really_ unpleasant. She was glad she was still doing the sleepover thing. She _knew_ she was going to have nightmares tonight even with Starfire in the same room. Without Starfire, she didn't even want to think of trying to go to sleep. But Robin didn't need to hear any of that. "No problem. Is there anything else left to do here?"

"No. Let's go home. I want to put some information through the computer and touch base with Star and Cyborg. Maybe Beast Boy's back by now, too. But if he is... let's not tell him about this, okay?"

"Of course." It had never even crossed her mind to do anything but keep this from Beast Boy. The poor guy had suffered over Terra enough as it was.

At least the ride back wasn't as cold. On the other hand, maybe that was a _bad_ thing, because it let them both think more easily, and Robin started voicing some of those thoughts when they were at a red light. Thoughts that Raven had been afraid of hearing. Thoughts that she really, really didn't want to hear.

"You... you know, Raven... back when Slade fooled me with that Raven robot... I..."

She couldn't believe he was doing this. All the times he'd never been able to splutter out anything resembling sentiment to Starfire, not until Tokyo, and now he was fumbling through... something... directed at _her_. She didn't know or care whether it was a proposal to start dating or a philosophical rejection of the same or just a comment about how she looked good, she didn't need to deal with it. For one thing, there was Starfire. For another, she wasn't a fit partner for anyone... not after what had happened to her... what she'd done to herself with her own carelessness. No. It was best to shut it all down right here and now, before the light even changed colors.

"Whatever happened, didn't happen with _me_," she said, words clipped. "So I don't really see why you'd feel the need to _talk_ about it with me."

"I... alright," he gave in.

They didn't talk for the rest of the ride back.

Beast Boy wasn't there to greet him when they arrived back at the tower, and he didn't show up later in the day, either. All the Titans went to sleep just a little more worried than they'd been yesterday.

The third day was utterly uneventful. No new crimes. No new leads on old crimes. And _definitely_ no Beast Boy. Starfire and Cyborg gave in to Robin's doubtmongering, but Raven held firm, and by sheer force of will kept them from mucking things up. Beast Boy had wanted to be on his own... if they went after him, it would seem like they didn't trust him to be mature or competent, even after all he'd done for them. He'd been through a lot lately. He deserved to feel good about himself, and she was convinced that this was the best way to help him feel that way. To let him know that he wasn't just comic relief, but a valued member of the team.

Then the fourth day dawned, and he still wasn't back.

And the fifth.

And the sixth.

By now, Robin and Cyborg paced openly. Starfire brushed her hair _far_ too much, and stopped flying. And Raven? Raven was outwardly unchanged, as always, but inside she was fretting herself into a heart attack. The stupid little goofball could be injured, or captured, or lost somewhere...

So, when Robin finally addressed the topic again, while she was setting up a card pyramid just in front of the sofa, her mind wasn't as certain as it had previously been.

"Look, Raven, I know you're doing what you think is best for him, but I think it's time to call it quits on the support for independence and figure out what's going on so we can back him up."

"Well... I..."

The electronic tone that let them know there was an incoming call sounded, and Robin made a sound of mild annoyance and ran a hand through his hair. "We'll talk about it in a minute, okay? Let me just take care of whatever this is first."

A grumpy-looking Superman appeared on the screen, and Raven's eyes widened while Robin seemed paralyzed at the mildly terrifying honor of the man of steel's long-distance presence. She sat up straighter and fixed her cloak, hoping her hair was straight. Her attempt to casually put down the cards in her hand disrupted the entire pyramid, and she let out a sigh as she watched the cards scatter.

"Robin." He was using a no-nonsense voice. "I've been overlooking your teammate Starfire's little activities in Metropolis up to now, as has most of the superhero community, but this latest thing... this is just _too much_."

Robin looked as bewildered as Raven felt. Starfire in Metropolis? When had that ever happened? _What_ latest thing?

"I'm sorry, sir," Robin said with the voice of someone who was scrambling to get a grasp on a situation when he had no idea what the issues were, "I'm really not sure what you're talking about. Starfire's never been in Metropolis as far as I know. What latest thing are you talking about? Just let me know what we Titans can do to help and we'll be glad to, as always..."

Superman's frown deepened ever so slightly. "Please, Robin, don't tell me you've been unaware of your teammate's licentious activities up until now. You live in the same building with her, for heaven's sake. You've nothing to gain by playing innocent. And definitely nothing to gain by letting your _other_ teammates run out of control with convicted criminals!"

Robin seemed so startled by this response that he was temporarily robbed of his power of speech. So Raven mercifully filled in for him, putting her usual monotone to good use.

"Superman, we don't have a clue what you're talking about. Could you get to the point before you give my noble leader a heart attack?"

Superman held up a newspaper.

They read the headlines.

"No... freaking... way..." Robin murmured in a state of pure disbelief.

Raven stared, and stared, and _stared_, until the black print seemed to dance mockingly before her eyes. She didn't know what the _hell_ was going on, but somehow, she knew, it was all Beast Boy's fault! Attacking people in the middle of an adult club! Collaborating with a villain they'd actually locked up recently! And somehow, whatever insanity people were caught up in that made them think that innocent Starfire of all people was in adult entertainment... somehow, that was his fault too! She'd trusted him, she'd thought he'd grown up, and here he was in the middle of a public relations quagmire the likes of which she'd never seen before! That little _bastard_!

"Uh, Raven, why are your eyes glowing like-" Superman started to ask, before being interrupted by the television exploding in a twisting whirlwind of black energy.

There was dead quiet while Raven seethed silently with betrayed fury, and then Robin calmly brushed pieces of the monitor off of his uniform. "Well," he said grimly, "at least we know where he is now. I think it's time we took a trip to the east coast."

Raven didn't argue this time.


	8. Part II, Chapter 3

**As it so happens, I don't really like Superman. ;) Far too self-righteous and impervious for my tastes. At least Batman waxes philosophical and gets beat up, from time to time, which helps to mitigate his arrogance.Superman just seems like the kind of guy who'd piss off everyone he met in real life, because he's so irritatingly perfect at everything, more so than anyone in real life ever is.**

**Cyborg's always been the odd man out of the Titans. Even the season finale devoted to him was pretty much paint by numbers, with good dramatic style but not enough substance to back it up. I'm trying to give him depth and focus to put him on equal footing with the others. Hopefully it'll work out.**

Chapter 3: Profane Worship

When they got to Metropolis, Cyborg was almost glad that Beast Boy and the Russian Doll were in hiding. They all needed time to cool down... especially Raven, who, after standing up for the changeling, now felt let down and was reacting by being just about as angry as he'd ever seen her outside of a combat situation. Trying to calm her down was a patently suicidal action at this point. Robin was also really pissed, but in a colder, more controlled way. He was a leader ready to mete out great and terrible punishment to the errant hero under his command.

All this meant that basically the only good company was Starfire. At least, she _had_ been good up until the point that she'd looked over his shoulder when he'd been doing computer research on this weird Starfire-in-Metropolis phenomenon, and seen things that made her scream out what he assumed were obscenities in Tamaranian before putting a new few holes in the walls of the motel they were staying in.

So yeah. Cyborg did what he could to keep everyone happy, but it was still a thoroughly miserable time. He was the only one who _wasn't_ seriously pissed off. He didn't know what his lil buddy had gotten into this time, but he knew the poor kid was gonna be skinned alive when they finally found him. It was _not_ gonna be pretty. He figured his job was to keep the yelling and angry words and other general hurtfulness to a bare minimum, as much as he could. Well, that, and figuring out just how far the Starfire-as-a-Metropolis-porn-star had actually spread through the net.

As far as the public knew, 'Starfire' had been commuting via T-Ship from Jump to Metropolis on a regular basis for the last few months. The Metropolis Starfire had decided to go into porn as an expression of pleasure-oriented sensualism, expressing a belief in the holiness of self-indulgence and the abandonment of unnecessary cultural guilt. And no one had ever thought to think that maybe this wasn't the _real_ Starfire, because she knew everything the Jump City Starfire knew, and looked the same, too. She never did anything illegal (despite being an outspoken proponent for most forms of mind-altering substances), and dominated the lower and middle-class Metropolis cultural scene by way of sheer force of charisma, always expressing herself with bold, almost royal gestures and speeches. The Metropolis Starfire had never ever spoken even a word about the other Titans, either... till now.

Finding this bizarre fake Starfire had been the first thing on their checklist, of course, but she'd gone into hiding, the newspapers lamenting that she feared for her life, so dangerous was Beast Boy's protest to her sullying the image of the superhero community. Supposedly, anyway. Cyborg couldn't picture Beast Boy saying or doing half the things that the newspapers said of him... if there was a fake Starfire, why not a fake Beast Boy?

The freakiest thing of all was how the event seemed to spark a new passion in the public for the fake Starfire. The people ate it up like candy, and porn actress was starting to become beloved by all as the battered but courageous victim of puritanistic vigilantes. Everything about it screamed setup, but it was spiralling so far out of control that even appearances of the _real_ Starfire trying to tell the public the truth didn't do anything to change their minds. They believed what they wanted to believe, and Starfire soon took to hiding in the hotel room, afraid to come out and face the grotesque adulation. Superman seemed to suspiciously accept Robin's explanation that the Starfire in Metropolis was a fake, given that the _real_ Starfire had been in the company of teammates at the T-Tower almost constantly for a long time, but there was still lingering disapproval underneath that. Superman suspected that the Titans had somehow caused this. The worst of it was that Cyborg wasn't totally sure Superman was wrong.

What had the little green monkey gotten himself into now?! It was the most insane media circus imaginable. People were even starting to walk around wearing Starfire-esque outfits in support, sort of like pinning blue ribbons on, only with a lot more midriff involved. And it didn't seem at all fair that the Metroplis Starfire somehow managed to stay in complete hiding while at the same time still communicating with the press. Superman had connections with the Daily Planet, but the messages, delivered by letter, cd, e-mail, and dvd, were all delivered with so much obfuscation and anonymity that it was impossible to trace anything back to the source. Metropolis Starfire even had a blog she updated every day, in a sickening pink font. It was too much for words.

After a few days of it, Star's initial anger cooled down into depression. She spent a lot of time crying. They all tried to cheer her up... but, well, what could anyone do to counteract an entire city of fans who loved her for all the wrong reasons? He had at least managed to scare them into keeping a good distance from the motel, with a few carefully-worded threats about it not always being easy to control the amount of pressure he exerted when he shook someone's hand or patted them on the shoulder.

Even Superman tentatively backing their word that the Metropolis Starfire was a fake did nothing to stop it.

Metropolis had a porn idol, and they worshipped her as they saw fit.

They were all ready for action, but it wasn't like they had any kind of enemy they could _fight_. They were superheroes, not propagandists! So by the time they got a call from Superman, saying that he'd found a lead on Beast Boy and the Russian Doll, they were all ready to roll out and cut through the Gordian knot.

Starfire was still afraid to go outside, though. And of course Robin wanted to stay with her to help her feel safe and keep her from getting (more) depressed. So only Cyborg and Raven went to rendez-vous with Superman.

"Now remember, Raven, we don't wanna scare him any more than he already is. We need to get him to relax, then we can take him back and give him the old drill routine. Okay?"

Raven didn't reply, which made Cyborg nervous for Beast Boy's sake. At least Robin and Starfire hadn't come along to add to the potential melodrama. This was going to be hard enough as it was.

Superman had spotted the green Titan by way of x-ray vision, hiding out in a random abandoned building. He'd agreed to wait for Titan support mostly because he knew it would minimize the chance of Beast Boy fleeing. Whatever was going on, Beast Boy and the Russian Doll were the only keys they had to figuring it all out.

"Let's go by the basics," Superman said as they arrived, immediately taking charge. Cyborg wanted to smack him for it, but well, it wouldn't have hurt the famous Kryptonian anyway. And in the end, it was probably easier to just go with the flow than it was to put up a pointless ego-driven power struggle with someone who could beat him up with one little finger. "I'll take the front door, Cyborg, you take the back. There's plenty of window exits, so Raven, you should stay out here and... completely ignore everything I'm saying," Superman finished montonously as Raven phased through the wall of the building with the expression of one driven to find a victim and inflict suffering.

Cyborg winced. "I am _not_ looking forward to this. You don't know what she's like when she's on the warpath, man. She ain't gonna greet ol' BB with a hug."

"Even if Raven keeps Beast Boy pinned down, we still need to make sure the Russian Doll doesn't escape. At least _she_ can't fly. Cover the back, will you?"

"Yeah, yeah..."

He covered the back. And winced some more at the sounds of telekinetic rage floating down all the way to the ground level from up high. So she'd found the poor guy already. There was no sign of the Russian Doll, either. Still with Beast Boy, or just plain long gone, he wondered as he clomped up the stairs, hoping they wouldn't give way under his weight. He didn't dare run on them, that would be seriously pushing his luck. Superman quickly caught up with him, and simply flew at a leisurely pace up the middle of the stairwell.

There were times when Cyborg really, _really_ wished he could fly, and this was one of them.

The chaos died down once they hit the top, where Raven had cornered a cowering Beast Boy and Russian Doll, looming over them like tentacley doom.

"L-look, she's not that bad," Beast Boy was saying meekly. "I mean... Cy! Oh my God am I so glad to see you. You'll understand, won't you dude? Doll's not a really evil person, she just needs a therapist or something! She's been really nice to me, and, and she's totally harmless..."

"Harmless?" Superman's voice drifted over, seeming to paralyze Beast Boy like a bug swatted into a wall. "She set the chief executive of Fox Network on fire!"

"He deserved it!" the Russian Doll spat out while her eyes glazed over with villainous fanaticism, seeming to find some courage in the memory. "I want Profit back, dammit!"

Huh, he could learn to like this crook. About time someone had shown those Fox clowns that they couldn't keep on getting away with cancelling all the good shows. "Way to go," Cyborg said quietly with a chuckle, then saw Raven and Superman staring at him like avatars of death and quickly wiped the smirk off his face. "Uh, I mean, that is to say, that was _wrong_ of you, Russian Doll! Don't ever do that again! Beast Boy, I'm very disappointed in you for cavorting with this sick and twisted individual!"

"U-um... wh-what are you doing here, sir?" Beast Boy asked Superman timidly.

"Do you have any idea what kind of a travesty your Metropolis Menagerie attack has caused? Do you have _any idea_? It will be _years_ before the negative image of superheroes you've shoved into the public's eye can be undone!"

Beast Boy cringed.

"Not to mention what it's doing to _Starfire_," Raven growled. "She's afraid to even be seen in the streets now! We thought you were taking down Fixit! You left your communicator and didn't tell us hardly a thing, and Robin was all for going after you immediately, but no, I said, he's matured, he can handle it! I stood up for you! And what have you been doing?! Attacking people in adult clubs with the help of petty crooks!"

Beast Boy cringed further, seeming almost to shrink.

"Why are you _cowering_ like that?!" she yelled full blast, voice taking on an eldritch tone as her body loomed upwards even more and extra tentacles sprouted from the shade of her cloak. Even _Superman_ looked paralyzed by the sight, to Cyborg's grim amusement, despite Raven's attention being directed elsewhere. "Stop sliding down like your spine's made of the same mush your brains are! Stand up straight like a man and own up to whatever stupidity you did to cause all of this! Well?! Don't you have anything to say for yourself?! Don't you have any defense or excuses to make?! Speak up! AND STOP LOOKING SO _SCARED_, DAMMIT!"

_He_, on the other hand, was (just barely) sufficiently used to the sight that he was willing to take the risk of stepping between his little green friend and his angry demony friend. This was no way to reconcile things. No way to figure out what was going on, either.

"Yo, Raven," he said in a firm voice, despite being slightly terrified, "chill out, would you? So some bad stuff's happened. We've gone through worse together. Give the poor guy a chance to settle down and explain himself before you go all darkness and wrath on him. There's no point in being mad at him when we don't even know if he's done anything yet."

Demon-Raven turned towards him, and for a moment he thought that it had backfired and he was going to be an additional target of her anger, but then she shrunk down to normal, her face blank with a hint of ice to it.

"Fine," she said with her usual deadpan tone. "You two can pal it up all you want, but I want no part of it. He _has_ done something wrong, and you _know_ it. He's oozing guilt from every green fuzzy pore. And as for _you_," she turned to address the Russian Doll, scowling.

"You'll never take me alive, copper!" the villain said with a mad cackle, and promptly jumped out a nearby window. All three of them flinched at the loud thudding, crackling sound of wood hitting pavement. And then there was more cackling. The crazy loon had survived the fall. Wow. She had guts, at least, he gave her that. Come to think of it, it was probably safer to jump out the top level of a four-story building than it was to face Raven's wrath when your body was made of wood. Wood was better at surviving gravity than living flesh, but worse at resisting Raven's telekinetic manipulation.

"Don't make this any harder for you than it already is!" Superman yelled angrily, soaring out the window in hot pursuit.

"And the wacky hijinks ensue," Raven muttered. Beast Boy started to chuckle, but stopped when Raven pinned him to the wall with a fresh glare. It made him look like part of a butterfly collection.

"Uh, Raven, tell you what... how about you go on ahead without us? I think grass-stain here and me have some catchin' up to do."

"You're going to go easy on him, aren't you," she said disgustedly.

"I'm gonna go exactly the level of pressure that needs goin', girl. Don't you fret, okay? I'll get this all straightened out."

"Right. I've got more yelling stored up for him, but it can wait till later. When I can do it with Robin and Starfire to help out." And with that, she phased through the floor and out of sight.

"Uh... thanks, Cy," Beast Boy said quietly. "I guess you're the only one not mad at me now, huh?"

"Oh, I'm plenty mad at you. But yellin' at you ain't gonna solve anything. C'mon, lil man, we've got a walk to take."

He didn't say anything. Beast Boy wouldn't respond well to a grilling. No, he just let the silence build up until Beast Boy's natural chatty nature couldn't take it anymore and the changeling started talking on his own. It was better for both sides, that way. Beast Boy didn't feel pressured, and because of that he was more willing to reveal information.

"So, um, I've kinda been too busy running and hiding a lot to really get an idea of what's going on lately. Superman made it sound like things are going crazy. I _swear_, Cy, I didn't mean for it to turn out like this, and I didn't do _half_ the stuff that the papers are saying..."

"Well, don't be surprised if people start throwin' rotten veggies at ya. And Robin had to beg Superman to pull some pretty heavy strings to keep the police out of it. I believe you though. We all know you'd never do some of the stuff that's being reported in the news. It's a load of bull."

"Thanks..." he said, sounding humbled, then yelped and hide on Cyborg's other side, away from a small kid throwing rocks.

"Hey, stop that!" Cyborg barked, and the kid stuck his tongue out and ran off. "Sorry, BB. Warned ya." But Beast Boy had stopped and was staring up at something.

"Oh my _God_, she has a billboard. How did she get a billboard up that fast?!"

Cyborg glanced up, grimaced, and tugged his teammate along. "Careful. The longer you stand still the more likely people are to notice you. You're not real well-liked around here right now."

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Beast Boy mumbled, head hanging. "I just wanted to get over here, stop the bad guy, then go back home. Bad guys aren't supposed to pull tricks like this. They're supposed to use lasers and trap doors and robots, not newspapers. How'm I supposed to fight a newspaper?!"

"I dunno." He kept the reply short, just to get Beast Boy more itched up, more willing to talk to fill the quiet. It worked, as he knew it would.

"I saw her on one of those stupid popup ads. I didn't want anyone else to know. I mean, you know, Starfire would've been traumatized... I guess she _is_, now, so I'm really a total failure at everything. But I was trying to stop that from happening. You know? I lied about having a lead on Fixit 'cause I didn't know what else I could say to Robin to let me get over here on my own. I just wanted to stop this bad guy... like, erase her from history. Make it like she never existed. She's screwing everything up."

"And you're sure she's bad, whoever she is?"

"Totally! I mean... well, mostly! She lied about the things I said and did, isn't that evil enough?!"

"ASSASSIN OF THE RIGHT OF SELF-EXPRESSION!" a Starfire-clad teenager hollered, flinging a brick with rather clumsy aim.

Beast Boy screeched and turned into a turtle, but the brick never hit anything. Cyborg blasted it apart in midair, and then glared at the fangirl. "Look, the grass-stain's in the right hands now and we're straightening things out, so you can either back off or you can go through _me_, got it?"

She did the smart thing and backed off.

"Do they all hate me that much?" a forlorn Beast Boy asked, eyes twitching back and forth in paranoia.

"No. Only the ones that love the porn girl the papers say you attacked. Which is about thirty percent of the city population, accordin' to the latest polls."

"You know, I used to dream of meeting Superman. But not like this. Okay, fine, I attacked her, but she was evil, dang it! And I couldn't even _hurt_ her! She just ignored me until she started screaming for help to make me look bad!"

"Why'd you think she was evil? 'Cause she was in porn?" Cyborg asked, judging his friend was feeling comfortable enough around him now for some direct questioning to be of use. "Did she act evil before you attacked her?"

"Yes! No! I don't know! She was like, like... she didn't care about anything but herself. And anyway, aren't evil clones _always_ evil? That's what makes them evil clones! Whoever heard of a _good_ clone?"

"Stereotypes, Beast Boy. Raven's half-demon but she can be pretty good when you're not driving her out of her mind with worry and other unfun emotions. So you're saying... you saw a Starfire in Metropolis ad, and decided that was reason enough to go to Metropolis and attack this Starfire look-alike. And she doesn't act supervillain evil, but maybe just kind of not nice, and then you fight... and she's so pissed off by this that she sets you up to take a fall. Is that all of it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is. I... I just wanted to protect you guys..."

Cyborg looked hard at Beast Boy for a moment. It seemed like a genuine statement, but with something else behind it. It seemed like Beast Boy was protecting _himself_, too, somehow. Holding something back. He looked so sad and scared. It was pathetic. Beast Boy was just as torn up as the rest of them over this, maybe even more so.

"Hey, man," he said gently. "You know you can trust us, right? We're your family. No matter what you've done, no matter what happens, you're our little green bean. So don't keep lookin' like you're thinking about running away from me and digging a deep hole to hide in."

"Yeah, Cy... I know..." he said slowly, almost in a whisper. But he still looked scared. "I still don't think the Russian Doll's that bad," he said suddenly, a little more lighthearted. "I just took her along 'cause I ran into her and she wouldn't stop bugging me. She helped me a lot, though. She's really a nice person once you get to know her."

"I'm sure we could say that about a lot of people we shouldn't be associatin' with. Invite the Devil to tea and he'll be a real gentleman I bet... right up until he tricks someone into sellin' their soul for a crumpet."

"What's a crumpet?"

"It's a... it's a British, bready thing. They have it with tea."

"I thought that was scones."

"Scones sounds kinda familiar too. Maybe it's two names for the same thing."

"Wow, there's a lot of people in costumes out here. I don't remember seeing anyone in costumes except for in the club. Jeez. There aren't any Beast Boy costumes. Gee, I wonder why?" he exclaimed sarcastically. "Maybe 'cause they all hate me for attacking this lying bad guy they don't know is a bad guy, which I did because I'm an idiot who can't think of any better plan to fix weird crap like this."

Cyborg patted his back lightly. "Hey, now, no moping outta you. I've had to deal with Starfire's waterworks for umpteen days now, I don't need you to hop on the self-pity train too. I know it's hard, but right now I need you to be cool like a cucumber. Shouldn't be too much trouble for ya since you're colored like one anyway."

"Dude, cucumbers are way darker. I'm more of a olive green."

"Good point. So, we're here. Ready to face the firing squad?"

Beast Boy whimpered, staring at the motel door. "They're all... in there? Together? Waiting for me?"

"Yup."

"Cy, I'm scared! Hold me!"

Cyborg snickered. "Yeah, right. Get in there and face the music, buddy."

The yelling session, as it turned out, wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. Cyborg gave Robin most of the information Beast Boy had told him, thus eliminating most of the interrogation process. Raven had a sore throat from all the yelling she'd done previously and was nursing it with some warm tea, though that didn't keep her from glaring with deadly intent at a twitchy Beast Boy. Starfire was just about the worst of it, but she had somehow gotten it into her head that _she'd_ done something wrong to make the people of Metropolis think she'd done and said those things, and that left everyone else to band together and argue convincingly for her virtue and general goodness. It still had quite a few awkward, unpleasant moments spaced out through two hours, but it could have been far worse.

At the end of the very long day, when the girls went to retire in their room, Cyborg followed behind Starfire. She was still looking pretty off. He wasn't sure if there was anything he could do for her, but he could _try_, at least.

"Hey, Star? Starfiiirrreee? Dry those misty eyes. It'll be alright. You've got Cy's word on it."

She turned around and smiled a very tiny smile at him. "I was not aware that it was costum to speak of oneself in the third person on this planet."

"It ain't. Cy's just cool like that. Remember, if you ever need to talk about anything, we're all here for ya. Me included. I may be a tin man, but like the story goes, I had my heart all along."

"Thank you friend Cyborg. I shall remember." She turned, started off, then stopped and turned back to him again. "Actually... there is something that is troubling me... that I would like to speak of."

He smiled. "Sure. Go ahead girl. Ain't no one here but you an' me."

"I... I do not wish to speak to Robin of it... because it is such a trivial thing, and as leader, he has many troubles right now..."

"Yeah, I know how it is."

"It is... it is just... they all seem to love _her_ more than they do _me_!" she burst out, green eyes shimmering with tears. Incongruously, at that moment, he began to think that he understood the beauty that Robin saw in her. Something about a weeping woman was primal, it called out to him, probably to _all_ men, to protect and defend. And maybe hug. "This woman who has shown her unclothed body to strangers, and done many filthy, unspeakable things for money, she is loved so much! And I have spent so much time trying to fight to protect people... to preserve the ways of this wonderful planet... and I have not been granted half the level of praise she has. Every time I feel as though I understand the people of your planet, they do something new to make me feel as though I do not know them at all!"

He chuckled wryly and closed the distance between them to place a hand on her shoulder. "Trust me, sweetheart, you ain't the only one to feel that way. The thing about people is that they're fickle. This weird fake Starfire in this city... she's just distracted them all with the emotional equivalent of a pretty light show. But the lights'll fade, and people'll forget about her. And your legacy as a brave and noble hero will live on. You've got my guarantee on that."

She hugged him till his metal bits squeaked in protest. "Oh, thank you, friend Cyborg. I have been so foolish. What you say makes since and is a great comfort to me. I will endeavour to be less selfish from now on and not dwell on this pointless event."

"Thattagirl. Glad I could be of service."

And she trotted off, to all appearances completely satisfied and happy... except that, in the reflection of a well-polished car fender, he saw her smile fade into a tired, blank expression at the last moment before she went inside her room. He wasn't half bad at pep talks. But Star wasn't half bad at pretending to be something she wasn't.

They all weren't half bad at that, when it came down to it.

Layers and secrets, layers and secrets, all tangling up in each other. It'd take a mighty sharp sword to slice the knot. If it even should be sliced. The problem was that the cords that made up the knot would then be free to whiplash backwards. Who knew which direction each little one would go to?

The last thing he heard before he powered down for the night was a news report on the tv that Robin was still watching. The Metropolis-Starfire fans were staging a rally, apparently. There was a lot of incoherent yelling, and a lot of coherent yelling about how they all loved Starfire, and Starfire's body, and how expression of the self and living in the moment were the highest virtues anyone could ever achieve.

But mostly, he remembered the incoherent yelling. Like a great, multi-headed, frenzied beast that would not die, with fire roaring in its voice and blackening its heart to ash. It reminded him of some Greek mythology he'd learned back in school. Even the son of a god hadn't been able to kill the hydra without help.


	9. Part II, Chapter 4

**Well, Witchgirl remains my sole, lonely regular reviewer, but my hits rate appears to be increasing, slowly but steadily. Here's to hoping this latest chapter will continue that trend.In case anyone's waiting for the end of the story to express their opinions, I thought it might be helpful to let y'all know the overall structure I've got planned out. The 'buildup' section of the story consists of three parts, each with five chapters. The 'climax' section consists of one part, of a currently uncertain number of chapters, but probably less than five.So we're about halfway through-ish.** **Each chapter is exactly as long as I happen to feel it needs to be to get through X number of plot points, though, so sometimes they can turn out real short, and other times Tolkien-esque.**

**The trouble with this chapter is that Remix17 already did the same concept extremely well in 'Negative Space' that I felt it'd be redundant for me to try the exact same thing... so I did my best to twist the idea around enough to make it different. Hopefully it worked out.**

**Does it bother anyone else that Robin looks like Tim Drake but acts like Dick Grayson? Making him either one just feels wrong because he's a merge of both, and if you can't explore the identity under the mask it makes character development hard. I'm seriously tempted to make him a clone or something, but then I'd have to rationalize the whole Nightwing issue somehow. Stupid time travel!**

**Chapter written to various K's Choice and Yohko Kanno songs that have no real thematic connection to the events going on in the chapter. Makes for a nice contemplatively depressing mood, though.**

Chapter 4: Divine Rights

To sidestep the usual culinary arguments, Robin had volunteered himself to grab some continental breakfast food for everyone. He came back loaded down with coffee, donuts, toast, fruit juice, and a single lonely biscuit that the other hungry customers had somehow missed. The juice was for Beast Boy, who was strictly banned from coffee ever since the first time he'd been allowed to have any. Normally Cyborg would've been all over the food instantly, but he seemed preoccupied in showing Beast Boy something. Robin wondered what it was.

"...is it wrong to think that that's kinda hot?" Beast Boy murmured, and Robin raised an eyebrow in suspicious disapproval.

"Alright, you two, what are you looking at? Beast Boy, please don't tell me you're sneaking peeks at the underwear section of the JC Penny catalog again..."

"No, dude, nothing like that!" Beast Boy blurted, hiding whatever it was behind his back while Cyborg descended upon the food gleefully.

Robin frowned and held out a hand. "Give it."

"Awww, but-"

"Don't push me, Beast Boy. I'm still angry with you for singlehandedly setting back superhero public relations by a decade. Speaking of which, we've arranged for you to give a public apology today for your rash and dangerous behavior." By 'we' he actually mostly meant Superman and Superman's newspaper connections, but Robin held on to whatever tenuous appearance of authority he still had left with an iron grip. "So make sure you're well-groomed today. The conference is at eleven."

"But I'm a _horrible_ public speaker, you know that!" Beast Boy protested desperately, hands waving about. "Remember the last time I gave a big speech?! Remember the Lego laser thing?!" The item he'd been looking at, a picture of some kind, slipped from his fingers and fluttered in the air before Robin caught it. "Aww, man! Give it back! Pleeeeaaaaase? It's a one of a kind masterpiece!"

The picture was a photograph of Starfire and Raven sleeping next to each other in sleeping bags, with only a Batman nightlight for illumination. Sometime during her slumber, Starfire had rolled over enough to be practically spooning Raven, with her shirt lifted up just enough to expose a little of her stomach, and Raven's own shirt disarranged sufficiently to bare some of a shoulder. He secretly agreed with Beast Boy's opinion of the photo, particularly given that it was the only time he'd ever seen either of the girls wearing actual pajamas, but still, it wasn't the kind of thing he could leave to float around in the team. It was just asking for trouble.

"Don't you think you've pissed off the girls enough for one lifetime?" he said firmly. "I'm going to throw this away. And Cyborg, if you've got any _more_, if I see them, they're garbage. Got it?"

"Man, you are such a tyrant!"

"And a stupid jerkface spoilsport, too!"

They both made faces at him, Cyborg's enhanced by the half-chewed donut still in his mouth.

Robin sighed and went back outside. He had to find a random trashbin to toss this thing into, or they'd just pick it out again and keep it more carefully hidden. He found a trashcan, held up the picture to toss it in, and... paused.

It really _was_ an interesting and adorable picture.

Quite possibly the only way he'd ever see them in such cozy, peaceful, vulnerable positions, especially together like that.

Which was precisely why it had to be trashed, of course. Raven would be utterly furious if she got wind of it, and Starfire could possibly get quite offended. It was probably dangerous to even know the thing had ever existed, for that matter.

But still, they looked so... so _cute_...

He glanced around in paranoia, then quickly stuffed the photo into a hidden pocket. He'd just get rid of it... later. When he could find a shredder to dispose of it properly. Yeah, that was it. No sense in just tossing it in a trashcan where anyone might find it. And he would _not_ look at it any more, either. He was a superhero, and superheroes didn't ogle their teammates in even pg-rated pictures. There was nothing wrong in keeping it with him until he could get rid of it in the correct fashion, though. Nothing wrong with that at all.

Repressing the urge to whistle nervously, he went back to their room. The picture thing had made him forget the rest of what he'd meant to tell Beast Boy.

"By the way, Beast Boy, I've got a statement prepared for you to read, so you don't have to improvise, okay? In fact, I'd really prefer it if you didn't." He tossed a carefully-folded packet of papers at his teammate, who unfolded and peered through it immediately.

"_'And so it is with great sincerity that I apologize for disrupting the public's lives and the life of the currently anonymous Starfire impersonator...'_ Dude, you should've trashed _this_ thing instead of that pic! I'm not sorry for disrupting the life of a bad guy! Do you want me to lie or something?!"

"Yes," Robin said without any hesitation, causing Cyborg to guffaw. "Yes, Beast Boy, I want you to lie. I want you to lie as you have never lied before in your life. I want you to lie like a used car salesman, and I want you to make those lies the prettiest, most believable lies you've ever said, and when you walk out of that conference there had better be a lot of people convinced you meant every last word of it. Because if you don't, and they're not, then this cute little fiasco you've gotten us into will officially be the most cataclysmically stupid event to ever occur in the history of superheroes, and you will forever be known as That Guy Who Attacked a Teammate Over Pornography. Do you understand?" It was harsh, but it _had_ to be harsh. Cyborg had been playing good cop, but it didn't work without a bad cop too. Beast Boy couldn't start thinking everything was okay again before he did anything to make up for all his foolishness.

"Yes sir," Beast Boy said quietly, avoiding his gaze.

"Good. Cyborg, make sure he practices that speech. I'm going to hunt down a possible lead to finding the Starfire impersonator and bringing an end to all this mess. I should be back before it's time for the conference."

"Alright, string bean, you heard the man. Start reading that sucker... look, we can make like I'm the audience. I've even got a camera."

KERFLASH.

"Augh! My eyes! My beautiful beautiful eyes!"

Sigh. The disadvantage of not having a communal room was that Raven wasn't around to slap some sense into those two when they needed it. Hopefully this informant would be as good as his word. The sooner this maelstrom of negative publicity was over, the better. Not just for superheroes in general, or even the Titans more specifically, but for Starfire. He couldn't stand seeing her suffering like that anymore. Whatever madness or perverse sense of humor drove the impersonator to do this, he would unravel it and put a stop to it. It was just so bizarre and obscene that, had the impersonator been known for wearing obvious makeup, he would have suspected the Joker behind it all.

Robin didn't really trust vague, anonymous messages as sources of info, but at this point he had nothing better to go on. He was acutely aware that he was in Metropolis, a really big playground for a lot of really powerful people on both sides of the moral spectrum, and that the average supervillain Superman beat up on a weekly basis would probably be able to cream _him_ with minimal effort. Which was why he'd taken care to equip himself with more than the usual quantity of freeze, flash, and explosion birdarangs. If all else failed, they'd make a reasonable distraction so he could run away. But he _hoped_ the lead was real. He was running out of comforting things to say to Starfire.

He was supposed to meet the informant alone at a warehouse... not exactly the most confidence-inspiring of circumstances, but at least the warehouse was in a good district. If anyone wanted to pick a fight, the police or Superman would get involved very quickly. After walking a few blocks, he decided he needed to make some room in the T-Ship for his R-Cycle the next time they went on a trip. He couldn't afford to hop across rooftops, not with the kind of attention that would draw (the only reason he could make it through the crowds in costume was because everyone assumed he was just another dressed up fan instead of the real thing), and depending on public transport was so completely unsuperhero-like that he couldn't bring himself to do it. Even if it _would_ have saved him twenty minutes.

When he reached the destination, there was no one there to greet him. No one at the door, either. He wouldn't have risked going in without backup if it had been dark, too, but no, the place was well-lit even if apparently deserted. So he walked in, slowly, eyes scanning around for his informant, sticking close to the door in case he had to make a hasty retreat. It was a good thing Slade was dead. This was just the sort of situation where the man would pop up from nowhere with a casual hello and a cool speech before trying to smash his teeth in.

"Hi!" Starfire said from directly behind him.

"GAH!" He whirled around, staff out and ready, before he could control himself. "Starfire! What are you doing here? How'd you follow me all this way without me noticing you?"

She shrugged, an odd smirk playing across her lips. "It's easy to follow people when you're a fly. Dude, it's about time you went somewhere quiet! I've been waiting to kill you for, like, _forever_."

The voice was Starfire's, so was the body, but the words... they didn't sound like her at all, even discounting the weird threat. His eyes narrowed and he took a step back from her, staff twirling slowly.

"You're the impersonator, aren't you."

"Eh? Me? No way. _That_ slut's been doing her thing and I've been doing mine. I just thought this'd be a nice face to kill you with. Unless you'd prefer _this_ one," she said, body blurring and shifting until it was Raven's now, cloak and all. Even the gravelly voice heard at the last few words was a flawless imitation. "So which one's it gonna be, bird boy? Hmm, hmm, hmm?"

Robin felt his mind worked both quickest and best when under pressure. As if in a flash of lightning, he understood. It hadn't been one of Slade's robots back in Jump. It had been a shapeshifter... probably _this_ one, going by what he, she, or it was saying. It had to have followed them here. And there was at least one other that had already _been_ here, pretending to be Starfire. It was all starting to make sense. He didn't have all the pieces of the puzzle, not yet, but he definitely had the corners.

"Why are you here with _her_?" another Starfire voice demanded angrily. "I told you to come alone!"

It was from the opposite side from the first one, so Robin sidestepped, trying to get his back against a wall without making it obvious that he was doing so, and latched his eyes on the new speaker. Yet another Starfire look-alike.

"Don't blame me," he growled. "Your little friend here followed me with plans of taking me out. Don't think I'll go easily, though, even if you two want to cooperate!" He slipped a freeze birdarang into his hand. Shapeshifters were usually hindered by immobility more than anything else, so he figured it was his best bet. There was no telling how powerful they were... he had to play it safe.

"Oh, dude, it's _you_," the Raven look-alike said, sounding disgusted. "Shoulda known you'd try to get your slimy alien cooties on him sooner or later."

"Ah. Trickster. You are continuing with your pointless plan of sowing dissent before killing them?"

"You know it, Hooters."

Robin took out a second birdarang, trying not to smirk. If they were so easily distracted by each other, he was going to take advantage of it. This wasn't an anime where the villains got to talk all day, after all.

"Call me that again and I will rip out your tongue, you _slarkblagamukuk_! You may address me as Starfire. Or, if you wish to keep our guest from being confused, Darker will suffice."

"Aww, you went with our naming scheme! I _knew_ you'd give in. So, are you gonna kill 'im?"

"Perhaps, if he bores me..."

And that was when Robin interrupted their chat by freezing them both in blocks of ice. "I'd tell you to freeze," he quipped cheerfully, "but it seems like it'd be redundant at this point." There. He'd gotten his joke out, the bad guys were captured, and everything was right with the world. The Starfire look-alike's head had escaped the ice, but that was alright. It just meant he could interrogate her before handing her over to the police. He walked up closer to make talking easier, but still kept slightly more distance than was used for casual conversation. He didn't want to get any closer to her than that. The unStarfire-like expression she was giving him gave him the creeps.

"Hmm. Deader _did_ always caution us from becoming distracted," Darker said ruefully, then smiled. "I shall have to work on that. But in the meantime, I would like to share something with you."

"Oh?" he asked suspiciously. "What's that?"

"Pain," she said sweetly, and then her eyes blazed with crimson light, so suddenly that he barely had time to jump out of the way before the beams streamed out, searing a line into the concrete wall behind him.

Even after that, the beams continued to follow her gaze as it followed _him_, leaving him unable to do anything but run, roll, duck, jump, and tumble frantically from side to side in an attempt to avoid incineration. He threw his last freeze birdarang, wishing they weren't so freaking _expensive_, but her gaze blasted it to dust in midair before it could freeze the rest of her. Then a flicking movement of the beams caught him offguard and caressed his ankle like a demon's claw, a burning sensation that was so intense it was almost icy. With an angry, pained cry, he collapsed clutching his wounded ankle, trying to inspect the damage and hoping that his foot hadn't been entirely detached.

He heard a sharp cracking sound and knew that she'd broken out of the ice. The burn was nasty, almost to the bone, but not debilitating. He could still get out if he was quick about it, and call for backup. He cursed himself for not thinking to have one of the others tag along behind him at a safe distance. He'd _known_ Metropolis to be a dangerous place, even for _him_, and he _still_ went it alone out of sheer instinct. Batman had trained arrogance in him as well as competence. Still, even Batman had known when to run!

But when he turned to run out the door, suddenly the Starfire look-alike, or Darker as she wanted to be called, was in front of him in a blur of motion, as fast as Superman could have ever managed, hovering just a few inches over the floor. "I am sorry for hurting you, dear Robin," she said in a gentle tone belied by her satisfied smile, "but you needed to understand that you are no match for me in battle. You are so _proud_, and I must strip away that pride... along with other things." Her eyes different now, still Tamaranian-looking, but red instead of green. Had the lasers done something to them? "What are you staring at, my Robin? Oh, the contacts... they are so fragile and tend to melt when I use that attack. But it is no longer important. I shall take you to my home, and there I will no longer need to wear _any_ of this wretched disguise."

"Sorry, but I'm going to have to decline your invitation."

Her smile hardened. "Perhaps you misunderstand if you think that I am asking you. I am not so prone to letting others to make their own decisions as Trickster is. What I wish for, I take."

"Firstly, I'm already taken. Secondly, there's no way I'd ever be interested in slime like-"

The punch came so fast that he didn't see it coming. At all. It gave him a flashback to early training days with Batman, when the man had been so far above his level that it was impossible to even tell _what_ he was doing in the heat of combat, let alone _counter_ any of it. He flew back almost twenty feet, tried to spin around to land on his feet, failed, and crashed painfully through one wooden crate and coming to a painful stop at a second one, shards of wood poking into his back like knives. The worst of it was his jaw, where she'd struck him. There was no question, it was broken. Probably in more than one place.

It dimly occurred to him that he'd _never_ seen Starfire move that fast. Hit that hard, sure... but only against enemies like Cinderblock. If Darker somehow had all her powers, which at this point seemed reasonable to assume, then he wondered how Starfire managed to live around the rest of them, who were so much weaker and more fragile. She had been able to withstand the rigors of space travel... without even a suit or a ship! It had to be like rooming with friends made of fine china.

Before he could try to move, she was in front of him again, in another one of those eye-achingly fast blurs of motion. She picked him up by the shirty like he weighed less than air.

"I am aware that that caused you great pain," she cooed, stroking his broken jaw with her free hand. "But it is far less pain than you have caused _me_ by repeatedly denying your obvious feelings towards me. Do not worry, I will not hold a grudge. You shall be a guest in my home, and after I have used Deader's nanites to repair your face, there will be much feasting and merriment."

He wasn't exactly in a position to argue or struggle. So instead, he did the best he could to blank out the pain from his mind, and watched, and listened, absorbing information like a sponge.

The Titans were more than just him. He had faith that they'd save him sooner or later. And even captured, he swore he would do his best to stand by them, acquiring whatever intelligence he could to help them win the fight. One battle lost, but now he was in a position to learn the right strategy to win the war. To his disappointment, though, one of the first things she did was crush his communicator. That would make things more... difficult.

Whoever Deader was, he or she was quite possibly Slade's previously unnamed supplier, judging by the nanite connection. Trickster and Darker seemed to have no love for each other... she was even leaving her fellow to stay frozen, with total disregard... but they both disliked the Titans. Darker thought of herself _as_ Starfire, for some reason, and knew at least some of her life, including some of the Tamaranian language, unless she'd made that part up on the spot. Trickster had had some sort of plan to cause chaos within the Titans, was almost certainly the one behind the Raven thing, and wanted them all dead. Darker, by contrast, seemed _willing_ to kill them, and _definitely_ willing to _hurt_ them, but didn't have their collective demise as a high priority. Ruining their reputations, on the other hand, seemed to be more along the lines of her preferences. One working by way of personal relationships, a second by way of publicity, and a third by way of machines. It all _meant_ something, he was sure. It was too neat and tidy not to. They'd even chosen similar aliases, so they had to have some sort of connection with each other to feel some small amount of kinship over, even if Darker and Trickster didn't seem to really like each other much.

Unfortunately, with all that thought out, he still had a lot of time to kill while being carried slung over Darker's shoulder as she took him through a meticulously well-kept, brightly-lit tunnel that had opened up from the warehouse's basement. And once he ran out of things to muse over, he couldn't block out her voice anymore. At least she didn't expect him to talk, with his broken jaw.

She talked with all the exuberance of the real Starfire, and even all the cute little idiosyncracies of speech, like the non-use of contractions. She talked about how she'd gotten her home by killing its previous resident, a wealthy but weak little supervillain too low on the ladder of power to even warrant notice, and then hired interior decorators and architects, including two feng shui experts, to redo the place according to her preferences, before killing them as well to keep her home a secret. Earth-made Tamaranian style furniture and decorations were in wide use, something he was able to recognize on his own from his visit to Tamaran. Food and other desirables were delivered through a complex series of transactions involving three sets of worshipper-like fans who seemed willing to do just about anything to keep her happy. Probably because she made it known that displeasing her resulted in a lingeringly painful death. She had a small harem of boys (and one woman) that had struck her fancy, but _he_ put them all to shame. He was the ultimate prize. The greatest difficulty to overcome would be finding a way for him to withstand frequent, unrestrained 'coupling' with her without broken bones as a result. There was talk of cloning and Tamaranian-human hybrid mutation experiments to create more properly sturdy bed partners, if Deader would only lend her the appropriate tools and helpers. He appeared to have extensive technological resources, most of them tied up in some grand project or other that Darker couldn't care less about. He also had a semi-cooperative relationship with Trickster, but Trickster seemed to operate on his own and according to his own whims for the most part.

When they arrived at the living quarters proper, she went first to a washroom to remove what she described as intricate full body making up, and returned, shockingly enough, with body and hair all in shades of gray, also exchanging her Starfire-esque outfit for something very similar to Tamaranian battle garb. True to her word, she did indeed use nanites to repair his jaw, injecting them with a syringe and promising that there would be no undue side effects. He believed her. In her position, and with her personality, subtlety was a waste of energy. She controlled him not through psychology or tricks, but through sheer force. When she told him to sit, he didn't dare disobey, unless he wanted another broken bone. When she told him to eat and drink of the vile Tamaranian delicacies, he did so, and pretended to enjoy it, and held back the urge to throw up with all his might. The few servants he saw were similarly efficiently obedient, driven by the same simple fear of physical harm that he was. It was crude. It was thuggish. It was... effective.

"You think of yourself as Starfire, right?" he said finally while prodding at the dessert that seemed to move of its own volition, hoping conversation would distract her enough to let him get away with not eating the thing. "The real one? Or just another one?"

"Both, my fleet little bird," she said after slurping up her own dessert, sounding happy that he was being conversational. "She is all that I am not... I am all that she is not. Everything she keeps hidden, I open to glorious daylight. Everything that I reveal, she hides in the shadows of shame and fear that shroud her heart."

"How were you made? When were you born? You can't have been around long, unless you've just been keeping a low profile for most of your life..."

"Oh, I have always been inside her. But I had not the strength to come out until Raven's father was kind enough to give a helpful hand."

"Trigon made you? Did he make Trickster and Deader too?"

"Oh, what matter are those two? I prefer you to focus on _me_, Robin," she purred, expression shifting into something faintly predatory. "But if you must know, yes, he was the one who created them as well... we were all born when Trigon attempted to overthrow the world, born for his amusement, to fight our weaker selves to please him. We did not dare disobey, and in any case, it pleased us to show our superiority. But _then_," she said, voice going icy, "they pulled the cotton over our noses with a most cowardly trick."

"Actually, the phrase is-"

"I do not care what the precise words in the meaningless phrase are!" she snapped angrily, eyes briefly turning into embers. He tried not to flinch in anticipation of coming pain, but couldn't quite help it. But instead of striking him, she calmed down. "My apologies for my rudeness, Robin. But I have no wish to learn any more of this planet than I already know. The way of the weakling is to do the adjusting to her environment, but the way of the warrior is to make the environment do the adjusting to _her_."

"That sounds like a very dangerous way to think of things," he said carefully, trying to make it sound as though he didn't entirely want her to be in danger. In fact, she scared him more than anyone else he'd ever met other than Slade and the Joker, and he wished a rock would fall on her and wipe her out of the world. Everything about her seemed like an insult to Starfire. Starfire was _nothing_ like her, and Darker insisted she was Starfire's inner self! It made him want to spit, to hear of such a noble, brave, innocent friend so maligned.

"Pah! There is no danger I am not capable of having triumphant victory over! True, I was sealed away for a time... but that was through a subterraneanpalmed deception that will not succeed again, and now that I have returned and had time to recover, I am even stronger."

He very carefully refrained from correcting her to 'underhanded.' "What kind of trick? It had to be a pretty good one, to get rid of someone as strong as you, even temporarily."

To his surprise, she was actually _blushing _at the flattery. Well, sort of. The tinge to her gray skin was just a darker gray, like her hair, but it seemed to indicate the same emotional reaction. "It was a mere nothing, a swapping of battle partners. Our countering parts switched so that I was battling Trickster's weaker self, and it was like the wise with the others. So we had no choice but to hide for a time. But in defeating us in such a manner, they admitted that they could not face down their _own_ other selves... and so we have grown greater in power for it, in the longer running. I am stronger and faster than my weaker self. My starbolts burn with an intensity she has never known. I am of the thought that I could destroy the Superman, if I wished for such a thing, but that would be a great wasting of my time. I spend my life exactly as I wish it: in pleasure. Pleasure you will share with me, Robin."

"Look... I..." he said slowly, not wanting to encourage _that_ line of conversation further but unsure how he could avoid it without ticking her off.

She leaned closer, grinning knowingly. "I understand why you are doing the hesitation, Robin, but realize that I am a being that does none of the holding back by nature. Weaker people are in chains they make for themselves, chains of guilt. But I have _never_ felt that guilt. I will do anything so long as it is pleasing to me. If you come to accept this, I can show you such glorious sensations as you have only dared to do the imagining of in your most secret moments. I can give you anything she can, Robin. The only thing that is different between she and I, is that I _will_, and she will _not_."

"I... I have a hard time imagining her ever having anything like you underneath," he said, somehow finding himself forced into honesty. And why, for one sick, tiny little moment, did he think Darker was _beautiful_? Beautiful like the porn star she was, beautiful like shiny plastic with no depth and nothing to hide or hide from. Beautiful in the same sick, twisted way the Joker was beautiful... through a mutation of psychology so grossly extreme that it seemed like a kind of pure, insane sainthood if one were only willing to just step outside the common views of humanity, for just a second. To look under the bed and see the monster hiding underneath, and realize that it had the same eyes you did.

The concept of completely unrestrained sex, completely unrestrained life, was so alien yet alluring that he couldn't resist picturing it for one dazed moment in his mind's eye. But the moment after that, he thrust it away, without even a shred of doubt. He knew who he was, and it wasn't that.

"I know what you think of her," she continued, smirking. "I know you think she is fragile! Naïve! Maybe even just a little... of the point-headed dunce, yes? Just enough to make you feel more smartness and superiority when you talk to her. But she is not any of those things. She is a warrior, a being that loves to live life, and you do not understand how far she has bound herself in her little chains of the mind to keep from being rash! I am the real Starfire. The Starfire she was too afraid to allow you to see."

"I can see I've got a lot to think about," he said, and that, too, was honest. "If you let me speak to my friends, maybe we can-"

"Did I not just finish telling you that I am not stupid?" she said with a very careful tone, just enough danger in her voice to provide a warning while still being friendly.

"Yes, of course, I know you're not," he said very, very quickly. "I just mean that maybe we can all find a way to live together and find a common ground for peaceful resolution, if we work at it."

"Hah! Peace is for the _argliks_," she said condescendingly, making a hand gesture that was probably some sort of alien obscenity. "I have all that I desire with me right now. Except... hmm, I desire a rubbing of the feet. Slave number fifty-three! You will administer a massage to my soles! Would you like one as well, Robin?"

"No, uh, that's okay..." he said slowly as the slave appeared quickly from nowhere, almost like a ninja, lifting Darker's legs onto a cushion and removing her footwear with the smoothness of action that implied the ritual to be a frequent one.

The slave was Blackfire, and so unexpected was this fact that Robin made the mistake of blurting out the first thing that came to him, again.

"Blackfire! What are you doing here?!"

Fortunately, Darker didn't seem to be angry over it. She looked mildly amused, if anything. Blackfire, for her part, ignored everything else in the world, focused with fanatical intensity on rubbing Darker's feet, face utterly blank.

"Oh, yes, you remember her I see," Darker said casually. "She came to this city with an invasion in the planning, but that would have been most inconvenient for myself, so I stopped it before it could become a troublesome thing. She spoke most rudely to me, so I decided to do the indenturing of her instead of giving her a merciful death. Time was taken to do the breaking in of her properly, and now she is such an obedient and helpful servant! Are you not, fifty-three?"

"Yes, mistress," Blackfire replied mechanically, her voice as devoid of expression as her face. "I'm proud to be a part of your wondrous household, mistress."

"What did you do to her to make her act like that?" Robin asked, half in horror, half in wonder. "She's so... so... not Blackfire."

"I have stripped her of that name, Robin. Please do not confuse her. She is fifty-three now. Is that not correct, fifty-three? Are you not so very happy to be serving me that you no longer remember your old life?"

"That is absolutely correct, mistress. I have no recollection of any life but the joyful one I am living now," Blackfire said, but her eyes darted to Robin for just an instant, an instant of desperate, mute pleading. Blackfire still had her will, she wasn't brainwashed. She was just too scared to do anything but obey. Just like everyone else.

Darker _had_ to be stronger than Starfire, much stronger, to beat down Blackfire so completely. Starfire had beaten Blackfire before, but the battles were always rough. Blackfire was an excellent fighter and had both the confidence and the brains to back up her skills. And here the poor snob was, just another toy in Darker's collection. A toy that would probably be broken or tossed away whenever Darker's whims ran in a destructive direction.

After more conversation, of a rambling, idle sort, she tried to take him to bed. Well, _one_ of her beds, anyway. She had seventeen, one for each day of the Tamaranian week. He babbled out everything and anything he could think of to keep her from essentially raping him, and by the time he ran out of things to say she was more amused than lustful. She agreed not to take advantage of him... for the _current_ evening. But she still wanted him to share her bed, even if he insisted on keeping all his clothes on (_especially_ the mask). She was, he found out with some black amusement, a cuddler.

"Blankets are so much colder than bodies," she explained. "I ordinarily have several persons to induce the proper temperature, but tonight I would rather spend more of the bondage time with you."

He frantically hoped she meant bonding and not actual bondage. If she pulled out a whip, he would just scream, and scream, and never stop screaming.

She made him lean up against her back in just the way she liked, and commanded him to put his hands in particular (fortunately, g-rated) spots, and to not breath on her neck because it tickled. And he did it all, hating himself for it. It was like a betrayal, not just to Starfire, but to the team as a whole, because, even though he had no control over anything, for some reason he _liked_ it. It was as completely distant from his Robin persona as he had ever gotten with his mask still on.

"You are doing the tensing up," she murmured after a half hour of just being close, her voice drowsy, half-asleep. "You remain uncomfortable with me."

"I'm sorry," he said, meaning it as sucking up but somehow it came out as being somewhat true. What _was_ she? Evil? She seemed evil before, but now... she just seemed to want the same things everyone did. Simple pleasures and fun. Companionship. She was literal demon spawn, Trigon had made her! But then, the same could be said of Raven. Even demon spawns had hearts. Still, the way in which she went about _getting_ those things was wrong. She felt no guilt, she felt nothing for others except in the sense that they provided her with pleasure. That was all.

"You think I am evil, yes?" she asked idly, tracing fingernails over the hand he had clasped at her hip.

He hesitated. Honesty was always the wrong option with Darker. She could snap his neck like a twig if he displeased her, and probably would if he wasn't careful. But, but, somehow, he knew she wouldn't be angry for his honesty this time. It was just them. No one else would ever know.

"Yeah, I do."

"Earth people talk too much about things that are like the bow of rain, things that are not there if you tilt your head a way that is different. Good and right, bad and wrong. Virtue and sin. I do not believe in these things because I have never felt them and the people who say they have felt them argue with each other about those feelings. Pain and pleasure... hurting and fun... I have felt these, and no one starts wars in disagreement over them. They are what is real. Why do you think the people shout my name with praise in the streets of this city? Because they know this. They know what I do is simply the only thing there is to be doing in life, with all the none of the sense cut away." She yawned. "I am sleepy, Robin. We will talk more of this in the morning of tomorrow. I love you."

The last three words had come out so utterly casually, so smoothly, without even a break or pause, that at first Robin didn't even realize she'd actually said them. When his brain caught up with reality, it was all he could do to not hyperventilate.

She didn't seem angry at him for not replying, though, and fell asleep quickly after that.

He listened to the sound of her breathing, and felt the rhythm of her heart, for a long time.

"I love you too," he finally said with a voice like the ghost of the ghost of a whisper's whisper, not knowing why he was saying it, not even knowing if he meant it or not, just knowing that it was something he wanted to say.

But, of course, she was asleep, and didn't hear him.


	10. Part II, Chapter 5

**Yaaay, I got another reviewer. :) Thankee kind sir.**

**Chapter written to the .hack//SIGN song 'Fake Wings.' God bless Yuki Kajiura. She doesn't have quite the diversity of Yohko Kanno, but within her specialty she definitely matches that composer for eloquence and beauty.**

Chapter 5: Glorious Illumination

For the first time since she'd put on a dress back when that nasty Kitten had been around, Starfire was wearing something more modest than her usual outfit. She didn't like feeling so... exposed... to people, not when she knew what they were thinking of her here. Perhaps this was what Raven felt like, constantly hiding within the shadows of her cloak...

"Thank you again for purchasing this wonderfully warm apparel for me, Raven."

"It's just a t-shirt and jeans, Starfire. They took barely ten minutes to buy and almost fewer dollars, considering I got them from a discount store. I'm just glad they fit you. Well, sort of, anyway."

The clothes were indeed a size or two overly large, and thus floppy, rendering her body totally shapeless in their folds, but she liked them even more that way. She looked like someone totally ignorable, which was just how she wanted it.

"I believe I will go see how the boys are passing their morning now..."

"Oh, good. I think I'll go with you. Now that my throat's feeling better I've got some more things to say to our resident shapeshifter."

Starfire was not at all surprised to see Beast Boy immediately change into a kitten to mitigate Raven's anger. Predictably, it didn't work, but he kept the shape anyway... probably because it meant he didn't have to talk. She couldn't help but smile a little at the scene of her dignified teammate arguing with a green house pet. Raven never seemed to realize how unintentionally humorous it was when she held long conversations with Beast Boy when he was in one of his more adorable shapes and incapable of responding. She seemed to know him well enough to mentally fill in his half of the dialogue without much effort.

"Beast Boy, jumping on my lap and purring is _not_ going to make me any less mad at you. You're shedding and green clashes with my cloak! Beast Boy, get down. Get down. I _mean_ it. Ack! Stop climbing on my shoulders you miserable little-"

"Tell me, friend Cyborg, are all Earth cats this hard to dislodge or is Beast Boy merely exceptionally stubborn?" Starfire asked her _other_ teammate, who was watching the scene with just as much amusement as herself.

"Can't it be both?" Cyborg said, chuckling as Beast Boy continued to evade Raven's lunges, both normal and telekinetic, by more or less climbing all over her.

"I don't suppose one of you would like to _help_ me?" Raven growled dangerously at them, as Beast Boy sat on her head looking innocent. "Isn't he supposed to be memorizing his speech for that news conference, anyway?"

"He already finished. I made him say it from memory three times," Cyborg said, carefully picking up the feline and putting it on the bed. "Our little guy's all ready to march up to the world and say he's sorry for the latest crazy thing he's done, ain't that right kitty cat?"

Beast Boy meowed enthusiastically, and walked back over to Raven, apparently intent on exploiting the fact that it was very, very difficult to be angry at a kitten.

"What?" A pause. "Beast Boy, I am _not_ going to pet you. It's just... it's just _weird_, okay?! If you're not going to turn into a form where I can yell at you properly, then get away from me!" Raven snapped, drawing her hood over her head, but not so quickly that Starfire didn't spot the faintly flushed cheeks.

"Hey, I'll pet him," Cyborg announced, reaching over to rub underneath Beast Boy's chin. "Aww, whozza fuzzy kitty? Whozza fuzzy wuzzy kitty-witty?"

After all the trouble from last night and the days before, it was nice to have the team acting something like normal again. The only thing that _wasn't_ normal, really, was the city outside the room's walls... which she didn't have to go out into just yet. She thanked X'Hal for that fact and, giggling, joined Cyborg in petting Beast Boy, while Raven looked on with an expression that managed to combine surprise, horror, confusion, scorn, and revulsion.

"That's disgusting."

"_Some_ people do not mind being touched as much as you, Raven," Starfire said with a wink (she had learned the gesture only just recently and had been waiting to try it out for a while now). "Indeed, I have often thought that you would be more happy if you allowed people to initiate physical contact with you with more frequency..."

"Just so you know, Star, the fact that you've been having a hard time lately doesn't give you a free ticket for hugs."

"What, so it's not the end of the world again?" Cyborg quipped. "By the way, Star, what's with the new getup?"

She blinked, confused, repressing frustration at yet another Earth phrase she was unfamiliar with. But it was easy enough to discern the meaning from the usage. "If you are referring to the shirt of t and jeans of blue I am wearing, I felt it wise to adorn myself with something more modest, to discourage the wandering eyes of certain fans that can be enthused to excess."

Truth be told, she'd hated abandoning her uniform, even temporarily. But she was sick of having people's eyes on her every moment she was outside, following her like tiny hungry insects. She hadn't been afraid of attention since the time her body had changed oddly in preparation for chrysalis. This time was similar in that she felt a need to hide from the world, afraid of exposure and contact, but also different. The last time, she'd simply been worried that her friends wouldn't like her. Now, all sorts of strangers were liking her... but for the wrong reasons. She was deathly afraid that would never stop, and felt truly alien on the planet again as she hadn't felt for a long time. It was almost as though the Earth she knew had vanished and been replaced with a different planet from another universe. She looked and looked and nothing was the same anymore, except for the Titans.

Robin excepted.

Somehow, Robin was always an exception to any generalization, though. Should she really be surprised that he'd changed his mind about her? She wasn't good enough for him. She would never be able to match his strength of will or spirit. Raven, though... Raven had a chance. Raven was very strong indeed.

A nice vehicle, not a limousine but a step above a normal car, came to take them to the news conference. Robin had not yet returned... but that was no cause for worry! He could take care of himself. The others seemed to think likewise, but acted surprise, for some reason, when she agreed. Hmph. There was no sense in doubting Robin or looking over his shoulder constantly. He was an adult, not a child, and should be treated as one. More than adult enough to make his own... decisions... in life.

That was what she told herself, anyway.

No one had the nerve to suggest she change back into her uniform. She knew it was not suitable attire for a meeting with the people of news, but being clad in her more open uniform in front of so many prying eyes was a thought fit to make her hyperventilate. She had a new definition for fear, and it was worry over what people thought of her body.

The car was a pleasant enough shield from the outside world while it lasted, but when they stepped out, the shock was as great as plunging into ice cold water. The crowd was so thick that the pavement could not be seen, and the noise from it like the roar of a tempestuous sea. And everywhere, there were lights, constant flashing white lights. Cameras. There were far too many cameras. Starfire tried to hide in her baggy clothes, and when that failed, settled for cowering partially in Raven's shadow instead.

Cyborg seemed to take it all in stride, as did Raven. If they were nervous, they didn't show it beyond faint traces of strain in their expressions. Beast Boy, though... he seemed caught between the desire to flaunt before an audience and running away frantically. Fear and bravado fought in practically every movement he made, and more than once she saw him half-raise a hand, then stop, thinking better of whatever gesture he had intended.

Beast Boy read the speech as well as he could, stuttering and fumbling over the words, but with a loud, clear tone that would have done even the ruler of Tamaran proud. It was the only time she could ever recall seeing visible sweat on him, dampening the short fuzz slightly. His hands shook, but it was only noticeable when he shuffled the papers of the speech around, which he didn't do too often, having memorized most of it well enough. At one point, he seemed to freeze in fright as a particularly unpleasant camera bulb flashed its way into their eyeballs, but she discreetly put a hand on his back for comfort and he seemed to draw strength from it, going on and not making any further linguistic errors for almost three minutes after.

There were questions afterwards, of course. And though the barrage seemed innumerable and impertinent, they had all been prepared for it. Most of the answers they had to given were simply explanations on Starfire's actual actions as of late, and the clear existence of an impersonator in Metropolis. More unpleasant, though, were the questions that delved into Beast Boy's supposed nature as a 'known troublemaker.' For that question, she volunteered an answer, very firmly. Beast Boy was playful, sometimes mischevious, but always a stalwart and reliable member of the team. Even when he was cooperating with a known criminal? Yes, she told them, even then. Beast Boy had most likely been led astray by his desire to rehabilitate the woman. Starfire did her best to comport herself as a dignified and patient member of the team, but with each question she felt disgust grow and grow inside. Did these reporters not trust the Titans? After all they had done, why were there still so many doubts to raise? Had they not sacrificed enough of themselves to prove the forthrightness of their natures?

Apparently not. Because the questions went on and on, until the Titans had no more answers to give. She had to call an end to the session... hoping she was not overstepping her authority, was not Cyborg technically second in command? But she could take no more and knew the others felt the same. So she put a very firm end to it, and they left, and the questions trailed after them, along with the staring eyes and flashing cameras. For just a moment, Starfire wondered why she bothered to protect such rude and ungrateful people from the criminals of the world. Perhaps if they were preyed upon more, and forced to defend _themselves_, they would not be so quick to pass judgement on others who fought for their sakes!

Even when she was back in the car again, the lights from the cameras seemed to follow her, hiding behind her eyes. Sighing, she rubbed her forehead, not even having the energy to relax to try and make the mild ache go away.

"Hey, Star, you okay?" Cyborg. He did play the part of the big brother to all of them so well.

"I am fine, friend, it is a mere ache of the head," she said with a cheerfulness she didn't feel, resting the side of her head on the window.

"You don't look so hot. Maybe you should take some Advil once we're back at our rooms."

"I am supposed to look hot? Beast Boy is sweaty and flushed enough for all of us, yes?"

"Unfortunate but true," Raven muttered, waving a hand in front of her nose. "Go take a shower as soon as we're back, Beast Boy."

"Okay," he said meekly.

They all looked at him in surprise. It wasn't like him to give in to a matter of hygeine so easily. The news conference had worn him out most of all, though.

"Do not worry friend Beast Boy. It was a very difficult ordeal, but now that it is over we have nothing to worry about. This has fixed everything, I am sure."

Beast Boy gave a laugh very uncharacteristic of him: short and sharp, almost a bark. "C'mon Star. Stop playing the cheerful alien for a sec." He sighed and dropped his head down, staring at his feet. "S'too late to fix anything," he muttered, so lowly that she barely heard him.

The words somehow clicked with something deep inside her, and she felt an intense responsive surge of depression that wanted to acknowledge it for truth. Things would never be the same again. The planet Earth itself would never be the same to her again. It was ruined now. Every time she looked at someone, she would be wondering whether they thought of her as a hero or an object of lust. Every time she looked at Robin, she would be wondering who he was thinking of... her, or Raven? Every smile, every fond word, every expression of joy was tainted now, and there was nothing to be done but smile and pretend it was otherwise. If only because she knew no other way to go on.

Perhaps she wasn't the only one to feel in such a way. A silence as sharp and painful as knives held sway in the vehicle for the rest of the ride back. Robin had _still_ not yet returned. It was a bad sign. The conference had been long. An even worse sign was when he failed to answer his communicator. After that, there was nothing to do but consider it an emergency of some sort, even if they knew not what.

"I'm going to try and locate his spiritual self within the city," Raven said finally. "It'll be difficult with this many auras packed so close together, but if I trace along the same route as our old mental connection I believe I can do it."

"Like connect the dots?" Beast Boy asked.

"...sure, why not."

Raven floated off to the girls' room, and Starfire followed. Raven needed to have peace and quiet to do the necessary work, she knew, but this would also be a good time to say something that would otherwise be hard to speak of.

"This spiritual location process is not dissimilar to meditation in its initial stages, is it not?" she asked quietly once Raven was floating in lotus position.

One eye peeked open. "Uh... yeah, I suppose. Why?"

"Would it be possible for me to assist you? I know my... my mental self-discipline, is low compared to your own, but if I can be of any use in finding Robin..."

"Well, I suppose the added energy would be a useful extra framework to lean on. It might make things go a little quicker anyway. But if you want to participate, you'll have to let part of your thoughts and feelings leak over into mine... and if you don't have good control over them, it'll ruin the spell."

Starfire smiled slightly. How convenient. What better way to talk? So long as she kept _control_ of herself, of course. "I will do my best to keep myself under restrain if you will allow me the opportunity, friend Raven."

"Okay... get close to me, from whatever direction you like, and mimic my position. After that I'll start the psychological bleeding over."

"Bleeding over? That does not sound very-"

"Figure of speech, Starfire."

"Oh. Of course." She _would_ learn them all, some day. Even if there seemed no sense to trying to fit in on Earth anymore.

She assumed the lotus position and floated with her back to Raven's own, repressing the urge to lean into it and enjoy the warmth more. It was actually difficult to feel enough joy to fly even such a small height into the air and maintain it, but she managed, mostly by remembering petting Beast Boy with Cyborg.

Their voices came together on the very first attempt without even needing to deliberately try for such. "Azarath, metrion, zinthos. Azarath, metrion, zinthos. Azarath, metrion, zinthos..."

And then she felt, faintly, an oddly intruding sensation. Different thoughts, different feelings, whispering against her own. Colder. Calmer. Lonelier. She shivered a little from it, then relaxed and embraced it, focusing herself on listening and feeling as much of it as she could. There was clear focus of purpose, with self-discipline and the casual familiarity of long practice to funnel it. That was by far the overriding feeling. Below it, though, were other things, things that might have been imagined more than felt, they were so faint and ephemeral. Weariness. Disgust, aimed both inwards and outwards. Pity. Shame. Frustration. An intense desire for hot tea.

_Why are you thinking about Beast Boy? _Raven's thoughts came clearly, the product of a deliberate sending of information packaged into easily-accessible words.

_I need to be happy to attain flight. Beast Boy makes me happy, when he is not being foolish._

_He's always foolish, _Raven said instantly, but the words were automatic with no real emotional heat behind them.

_You are not angry with him anymore,_ Starfire noted.

_I don't have the energy to be angry. I'll be angry some more later. You can bet on that._

_This connection you say you have with Robin... it is... useful, yes?_

_There's no point in trying to be delicate, Starfire. I can tell what you're feeling. You think I have a greater connection with him than you do?_

_I do not know._

_It's like a trail of smoke on a dark night. I can follow it if I try, but just barely. It doesn't mean anything._

_Do you say this because you believe it, or because you do not wish to hurt my feelings?_

It was impossible to lie when communicating mind to mind. At least, not by any techniques either of _them_ knew. The hesitation was significant, and the next words Raven sent were flooded with shame.

_I don't know._

_I am remembering when you defeated your father... and you were so glad that Robin had believed in you..._

_Hey, I've even hugged Beast Boy once, came Raven's flippant reply. You just have to catch me in the right mood._

_I hope you are aware that none of us ever stopped believing in you, Raven._

_I know. And I'm glad for it. Look, is there something you wanted to say, or..._

The words drifted off vaguely, and Starfire couldn't think of the right thing to say back, not immediately. Instead she just sent her emotions, which were much the same as Raven's own. The tiredness, the carefully-hidden, tightly-wound-up ball of shame, the sad but absolute willingness to give in to fate and do whatever was required to keep life normal and peaceful.

_You can have him if you want him, _she finally said miserably, and only just in time remembered not to let her emotions come too strongly, holding back intense grief with an iron wall of will till the sorrow faded into a steady but weaker ache.

_Starfire..._

_I mean what I say though my lips are unmoving. You are a dear friend to me, Raven... and so is Robin... and I will gladly sacrifice whatever meaningless debt I feel he owes me, if you two would be happy... together..._

Raven was awed, and bemused, and almost, _almost_ amused, but the sorrow leaking over from herself, however subdued, was enough to send a resonance of empathetic pain through the both of them that would not stop bouncing back and forth. Starfire felt Raven try to begin something like a denial, something to brush it all aside, but she stopped that before it could begin.

_Can you truly tell me you have never thought of it? _she asked Raven firmly. And she hoped against hope that Raven would say no and mean it... but she knew that that would not be so. The feelings coming from Raven told her that, as well as her own common sense.

_Okay... maybe a little, sometimes... but that doesn't mean anything!_

_I wonder what Robin would think of it, if you spoke with him._

_I don't have to speak with him, Starfire. I don't want to speak with him. It was just a stupid misunderstanding. You can forgive him for it, and forget about it, and everything can go back to normal._

_We all wish we could forget many things in life. But we never truly can... can we?_

Raven's silence this time was guilt-laden, agreeing and not wanting to admit to it.

Starfire's self-control held, but shockingly, Raven's did not. Perhaps because Raven had to be in control so much of the time... here she had a chance to let go for a change, and the unusual emotional closeness had broken her comfort zone all to pieces anyway. Raven's emotions surged forward and washed over everything, a great black tide of woe and regret. Raven was crying, and Starfire dimly realized she was crying in response to Raven's own tears. Raven wasn't weeping just for the current problem, but for innumerable ones, small things that built up and up underneath layers of faked nonchalance. Tens of thousands of little regrets that could never be fixed. Words, expressions, decisions, people kept at a distance both literal and metaphorical. Images of all the Titans... Terra... Slade... Trigon... a woman Starfire knew through the link to be Raven's mother... Malchior's soothing words from paper and harsh dragon-handed grip... all of it had added up, and never really gone away. One could not really make such things go away. The only thing to do was keep yourself distracted so you didn't think of those things too often.

Starfire let the emotions rock her, and did not resist. And when Raven was done and finally regained control of herself, no comment was made on the unusual event. Everyone needed to lose control every once in a while. People who lived their lives always in control were scarcely living at all.

_Sorry about that._ _I'm going to try and find Robin now, _Raven projected, with volume barely registerable to her mind's ears.

Starfire projected a faint smile back. _Yes. Let us find Robin._

Their wills entwined, and travelled an old, disused but still recognizable path based on a previously established link and similarity of pysches, and Robin could have no more kept his location from them than a tree could have deflected a bullet. Raven alone could have done it easily enough, though it would have taken time. With Starfire lending her sincerity of will to it, also honed to a mental point, if one duller than Raven's, and the both of them focused with utter intensity on him for various reasons, the mental journey was almost like that of being a lightning bolt striking down.

He was far, but still in the city. Underground, in a clean, metal place with unusually Tamaranian furnishings. He had been hurt... his jaw still ached faintly from a previously terrible wound somehow repaired, and one of his ankles had been seared and remained untended to. He was calculating, doing his best to stay in control, but he was also afraid.

And then Starfire felt... _herself_... very near Robin. She wasn't as well-trained as Raven, nor as gifted, and would almost certainly not have felt it save for that it was simply her very own self, the most familiar thing in the world, impossible to miss the psychic imprint of. Herself... but with important pieces missing, like the mental equivalent of a person with no legs.

Then the trance broke.

"The imposter has a closer connection to you than we could have ever thought," Raven's voice, her _real_ voice, came, not accusing, just business-like. "I wonder what she is. Anyway, we know where Robin is now, and what his status is. Let's go rescue our commander in chief before he gets himself into any more trouble."

"Yes," Starfire said quietly, landing on her feet and following behind Raven with a slower but meaningful pace. "Let us find this imposter who has taken Robin and lied to the people of this planet about who I am. I have things I wish to say to her."

"Going to say them with your fists?"

"I will say them with anything able to cause her appropriate retribution for her crimes," Starfire said grimly, eyes burning with the desire to blast holes in enemies.

Raven paused and looked back, one corner of her mouth twitching into a tiny part of a smile. "You know, you're scary when you get really mad. And coming from a half-demon, that's a compliment."

"Thank you, friend Raven. I shall take it to be so."

They informed Beast Boy and Cyborg of their findings, and were gathered at the proper location above ground fifteen minutes after that, and two minutes after _that_ they were tearing straight through the concrete of a disused alleyway, ready to descend upon the lair of their foe like the wrath of X'Hal.

The room they exploded into had a table, a couch, Robin, and another Starfire. The coloration was the dead giveaway of her foul duplicate's origins, shades of gray with red eyes.

"Minion of Trigon," Starfire snarled in righteous fury, "I do not know what ill-conceived plans you have made to trouble us, but whatever they are, they are over! You are outnumbered and have no choice but to surrender!"

Almost too fast to see, her evil copy was suddenly next to Robin, fingers tipped with crimson energy poisoned menacingly at his throat. "I am enjoying my freedom. Force me to relinquish it, and I shall relinquish _this_ one of his life..."

Whatever troubles there were between herself and Robin, she still had enough of a possessive streak for this to infuriate her. "How _dare_ you threaten him! Harm one more cell of his skin and I will feed you to the _glagaloops_ of Koruudiu VII!"

"Darker, you _don't_ have to do this," Robin said to his captor, for some reason trying to make peace. What a waste of time. "Just calm down and we can figure out a way for you both exist without ruining it for each other..."

A purple explosion interrupted the attempted negotiation, and Darker was thrown entirely across the room, smashing into a far wall and _almost_ into Beast Boy, who turned into a frog and hopped out of the way at the last moment.

Blackfire floated smugly just behind Robin, the usual arrogant smirk on her lips. "Oh, don't look so confused, sister dear. I've got some payback for your better half... as far as I'm concerned, making her suffer as much as she made _me_ suffer as her _slave_ takes priority over everything else."

"No, don't! Only Starfire can-"

"SILENCE!" Darker snarled, recovered from the impact, hands and eyes fiery infernos waiting to be unleashed on mortal flesh. "You all hate me? All but Robin. But Robin knows. Robin understands. I am _better_ than you," she hissed vehemently at Starfire. "I am a warrior who never hesitates before the strike, a lover who has whatever man she wishes. I am more honest with my desires than you, loved by more people than you, and more a part of this world than you will ever be. Why should _I_ be the one to die this day? Working together as cowards, you may vanquish me with your greater numbers, but just as I came back the first time, I will return once more, and the next time I will be so strong that _nothing_ will stop me!"

Starfire did what came naturally, and looked to Robin for confirmation or denial of the information. Robin knew what was happening more than anyone else did. Robin would not let them down.

"She's right," Robin said reluctantly. "Star, you have to be the one to do it. Otherwise it won't be permanent. Last time you weren't the one to beat her, and that's why she's here now."

"Greeaat, one of the few times we've got a villain on _our_ side, and we can't accept her help without it screwing things up," Raven muttered.

"I know, it's pretty lame, isn't it?" Blackfire said cheerily. "Oh well. Guess I'll just let you two kill each other then, and finish off the winner some other time. Ciao!" With that, she started to fly out of the hole the Titans had made coming in.

Her progress was halted by a flare of light from Darker's eyes that struck her mid-back with a loud hiss. With a scream, Blackfire fell down to the floor, and even Starfire winced at the wound that had burnt off most of the clothing on her back as well as large portions of flesh. With another one of those moves that was too quick to do anything about, Darker was standing on top of Blackfire, a boot pressing firmly into the wound. Blackfire whimpered, as helpless and pathetic as Starfire had ever seen her.

"Oh, no, fifty-three," Darker said with a sickly-sweet voice, smiling in a way that was anything but happy. "I have not yet released you from service. However, I grow tired of your incompetence. You are most churlish, and unpleasant to look upon, and worthless to me even as a slave. I think you will die now."

The second boot descended towards Blackfire's head in a stomping motion. Starfire saw it as though it were something on the television, something completely disconnected from reality. She saw a flicker of black as Raven attempted to put a barrier over the foot, and failed as Darker's strength casually broke the magic. And she saw the expression of utter terror on Blackfire's face before it was crushed into a bloody pulp in one smooth, heartless motion.

"Holy shit," Cyborg murmured faintly, and they all stood in disbelieving horror at the event.

"You... you are a monster..." Starfire finally said, hands shaking with what she _hoped_ was anger.

"Please," Darker said scornfully, flipping her hair and scrapping her boot off casually on the table. "You have been waiting to do that all your life." Then her face brightened, as much as a face of gray could do such a thing. "I think I will postpone our fight to the death and my inevitable victory for a little longer. It is time for me to consult with another companion of mine who has had intentions towards wiping you foolish Titans from this planet altogether. I would have gladly ignored your worthless lives if you had ignored me in turn... but since that is not to be... I will enjoy making you all miserable before crushing you."

They all encircled her, ready to fight, ready to stop her no matter what the cost. It was clear that she couldn't be allowed to go free, couldn't even be negotiated with. Not after what she'd done. She was a monster and had to be slain before any more people were hurt.

"We're not letting you go anywhere," Raven said grimly, debris and furniture starting to hover up around her, encased in black.

Darker's eyes locked with Raven's in clear hatred. "Foolish witch. Always holding yourself above and apart from others, as if that makes you greater than those of us who know to grasp life when it comes. All the arcane babblings in the world will not enable you to stop me. If you are as wise as you pretend to be, you will kill yourself before we meet again. I have many ideas for your doom that will be slow and lingering!" Her gaze took in the rest of the Titans. "As for the rest of you, I will accept you into my household if, at the end, you beg for me to spare your worthless lives. Think on it. Goodbye."

Darker made the same escape maneuver Blackfire had attempted, only dozens of times faster. Starfire followed immediately, but couldn't even tell which direction she had went in! After cursing in Tamaranian and flinging a few useless starbolts in the air, she flew back down to look grimly upon her sister's body.

"She is right in that we are unable to catch her. She is... too fast. Perhaps Raven could..."

"I'll try," Raven acknowledged, picking up the sentence's meaning. "It won't be nearly as easy as tracking Robin was, but I might be able to do it. Still... villains that announce grand plans like that usually take some time to accomplish them. Maybe we should... take care of _her_... first..." she said, gesturing at the body.

"Dude, I can't even _look_ at it," Beast Boy said. And he was, indeed, facing a wall very deliberately. "People shouldn't ever die in gross ways. Pretty people should die in pretty ways."

"There's no such thing as a pretty death," Robin said harshly. "We'll call in the police to sort through everything here. Starfire, maybe you can contact your home planet? Your people will probably want to arrange for funeral rites."

Starfire stared at the corpse, at the slowly-widening pool of blood, and fought inwardly. She _wanted_ to say that Blackfire _deserved_ that death, and should now be simply thrown away like the trash she was. That was what she _wanted_ to say. What she felt for truth.

"Of course, Robin. I will speak with Emperor Galfore and arrange for the planet to mourn her as they wish. She was a great warrior... even if she often chose the wrong path."

"I can't believe she died like that," Cyborg put in. "Just... squished like a bug. I guess it's easy to forget that life's a fragile thing. How's Star gonna be able to beat that black and white copy, when she's up against that kind of power?"

"She'll figure out a way," Robin said confidently, and ordinarily that confidence would have warmed her heart, but she could only feel the cold. "No enemy's so strong that it's ever beaten her."

"Please do not speak of me as if I am not here," Starfire said quietly.

"Right. Sorry Star."

And then they left the scene of death, and went through an entirely different kind of struggle: one of the red tape, as it was called. The police had to be spoken with. There were harsh words for them over property damage... they had not thought to consider the consequences of tunneling down so far, so close to buildings inhabited for legitimate and legal purposes. Robin bore the brunt of it, for being the one absent for the talk with the people of news, and thus precipitating the entire event on a day that had originally been meant to calm down the public. They wouldn't be calm now. No, they would have even _more_ to talk about, with a former ruler of Tamaran slain so messily. Tamaran would not go to war over such a thing, of course, not when Blackfire had been a notorious criminal and had invited such a fate on countless occasions, but the papers of news would speculate regardless. There would be more and more speculation.

As if there wasn't enough of it.

And as long as her evil self, the ludicrously-named Darker, was alive and free, there would be no end to it, Starfire was certain. The feeling that the world was suddenly louder, scarier, more dangerous, more ugly, would just keep getting worse and worse. And Starfire was, for a rarity, doubtful that she would emerge from the final inevitable conflict victorious. After all, Darker had the _world_ on her side.

As it turned out, they didn't have to wait long to see what Darker's next move was. Two days later, mid-morning, she was watching tv while Raven attempted the strange card pyramid game she used in lieu of meditation lately, when a special bulletin of news appeared, interrupting the most amusing antics of the Full House family.

Her double was on television, with skin, hair, and eyes all disguised to appear as those of a normal Tamaranian again. She was speaking directly to the people of news instead of using messages, this time! Starfire was so angry at such an unpleasant figure interrupting such a pleasant show that she was too busy fuming to catch the initial words. And the camera view, angled directly into Darker's eyes, had an unnervingly hypnotic feel to it. But when she got over it enough to actually pay attention, anger started to fade, replaced with disbelieving horror. No, she wasn't. She wasn't. Even _she_ couldn't do something so... so wicked...

But she was.

Darker was reciting a list of superhero secret identities. For what reason? Starfire had no idea, she'd missed that part. Were the identities _real_? How could Darker have come by them in the first place? It didn't matter, though, she understood intuitively. Darker had enough sway over people that even if the identities were fakes, a large segment of the population would believe her anyway.

X'Hal. If Superman had been angry _before_...

_"-perman is Clark Kent of the Metropolis Daily Planet. The Flash is Barry Allen, of-"_

No, no, no no _NO_! This would change the entire dynamic between superheroes and the people, the entire infrastructure... she had been around Robin more than long enough to know that this would ruin _everything_. There might even not _be_ any more superheroes at the end of all the consequences...

She had to stop the speech, she had to stop it _now_, before it went on any longer and unmasked more heroes. She recognized the fountain Darker was making the speech at, she knew where to find it. There was no time to talk to the others, no time to do anything but fly as if her life depended on it and pound that _clorbag varblernelk_ into dust! She was dimly aware, as she rushed off, that she'd knocked over the card pyramid, and unhinged the door, and that Raven was calling out after her... but she couldn't afford to do anything about any of it.

If the masks were ripped off, it deprived the wearers of the opportunity to ever be honest. Secrets should never be revealed save by their keepers.

Starfire allowed a cold grin, almost just a baring of teeth, to twist her lips as she saw her target and dived, angling through the useless crowd of gullible, stupid, foolish people.

Even _Darker_ hadn't expected it, and Starfire felt a brief surge of triumph as she landed a solid punch to Darker's jaw, knocking the wicked duplicate back twenty feet, through the fountain and into a tree. There could be no gloating, though. No posing. Darker had to be defeated as quickly as possible, she had to, she _had_ to! A second charging strike, still in air, smashed Darker through the tree and down into the ground, covered in dirt, water, and shards of wood and stone. And then it was time to let a starbolt, one of the hottest she'd ever made, fly into the creature... and another... and another... and _another_...

"Now here is a thing of great interest..." Darker said, completely calmly, not even _trying_ to fight back. "A Titan who attacks someone without provocation... I am sure the many witnesses here will find it as interesting as I do. Stupid, weak girl. No one loves you. The people of Earth love _me_. Robin loves _me_."

With a shriek of rage, Starfire sent an unceasing stream of energy into the shallow depression in the ground until it was a deep hole and she couldn't see her tormentor anymore, except for the glow of red eyes. The creature was a monster, nothing better than a monster, and she would make the thing go _away_!

And still, Darker's voice taunted her, giggling through the words. "Perhaps I am wicked, yes? But if that is so, then why am I still loved? Do you not see? Do you not understand? It is because the people of this planet are _also_ wicked! Wicked people require a wicked goddess to worship!"

Starfire drew back her first for a third punch, but stopped the blow in mid-strike, staring at her knuckles. There was blood on them. Darker's blood... staining them all over... sticky and warm... so much like Blackfire's blood...

The people were yelling. They were crying out encouragement... for _Darker_! And anger against _her_! They wanted _Darker_ to win! They thought _she_ was the brute, the monster! Even the sirens crying shrilly through the air were not so loud as the people in their anger and fear and chaos.

Was this heroism, what she was doing? Was this the glory of battle? Was there even such a thing as glory anymore? Had there ever been in the first place, or had it all just been lies everyone told themselves to feel better about killing and hurting?

She was still a warrior, but she no longer knew why.

Starfire wasn't aware of voicing these thoughts aloud, but she must have, however idly, for someone standing nearby replied. A deep voice. A _friend's_ voice... but for some reason, it didn't sound friendly.

"Well, glory, glory, halle-fuckin'-lujiah! Time to sacrifice the fattened calf."

She looked around, confused, too disoriented to think straight. "Cy-Cyborg?"

She looked straight into the barrel a sonic cannon.

It must have been set on full power, because she blacked out on the first blast.

End Part II


	11. Part III, Chapter 1

Part III: Deader

Chapter 1: The Lotophagian Cocktail

Months after what would forever be referred to within the Titans as 'the Metropolis Public Relations Nuke,' everything had finally gotten back to normal. It had been hard work, but everything worthwhile in life was work, after all. The events had only served to strengthen the bonds between the government, the public, and superheroes in the long run, as all three were forced to work together to sort through the misunderstandings. And the Titans themselves had come out of it stronger, too. Like metal purified and hardened in a forge, they were a clean and unwavering fighting team now, and there was not a criminal or villain that failed to pay them due respect for it. In the face of such total competence even Batman had done the seemingly impossible (for _him_) and relaxed a little, taken to playing the father figure more... which suited Robin just fine. Batman was getting old, and the Titans had grown up.

Not so grown up that they stopped having needless arguments about food, though.

"SAUSAGE!"  
"SAUTOFU!"  
"THAT'S NOT EVEN A _WORD_ YOU LITTLE DYSLEXIC RUNT! GIMME THAT FRYING PAN!"

"Checkmate," Robin announced, having finally made the last move against Raven.

"NO WAY! YOU'LL JUST USE IT TO FRY UP SOME POOR HELPLESS PIG! PIGS ARE INTELLIGENT AND SENSITIVE ANIMALS AND THEY DESERVE YOUR RESPECT!"

"...I only lost because I'm getting a headache from those two idiots yelling," she muttered sourly.

"NO WAY AM I GONNA RESPECT AN ANIMAL THAT BATHES IN MUD ALL DAY! GIMME THE BUTTER, TOO!"

Robin chuckled. Okay, it _had_ gone on long enough. "You want to stop it this time or should I?"

"Please, allow me."

Telekinetic violence commenced.

"Ack! Raveeeennn! Why'd _I_ have to get the wedgie?!"

"Probably because Cyborg doesn't have any clothes on and therefore can't be wedgied."

"Dude... so what, Cy, you're like... naked, technically?"

"Well, with this line of conversation, I've suddenly lost my desire for breakfast," Raven said. She paused on her way out the door, though. "Uh... Robin, could I talk with you for a second?"

She was blushing a little. That was weird. It made her look cute... but still, very weird. Shrugging, he followed her out into the hall.

"What's up?"

One of her feet shuffled the floor nervously. She wasn't looking at him. He frowned slightly in confusion.

"Raven, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, just fine, it's just... um... I'm not sure how to say this."

"Take your time. There's no hurry."

"Well. You remember back when we decided... Starfire and I... that it was best to just not be with anyone? Given how complicated things were, and that it would be better to focus on our work and devote more time to training and being better superheroes..."

"Yeah, of course."

"I know it seems like hubris to say it, but we feel like we've come as far as we can in that direction. I don't think I can _get_ any more adept in magic, and Starfire's just about hit her limit in physical power and starbolt projection. I mean, for crying out loud... in the past two weeks alone we've taken down Doomsday, a mind-controlled Superman, that alternate universe Thanos freak, Darkseid, and an army of skyscraper-sized Darth Vaders and Megatrons brought to life by Control Freak. Even when Slade somehow came back to life _again_, he didn't pose a threat... he spends most of his time now crying uncontrollably in that mental institution! We can afford to have a little more... _distraction_ in life, I guess is what I'm trying to say."

"We're at the top so we might as well enjoy the view, eh? Never thought I'd hear that coming from _you_, though, Raven."

She glared a little. "Don't make it sound like I'm being lazy like Beast Boy. I just think it's past time we opened ourselves up to new experiences in life. And Starfire agrees with me. The only reason she's not talking to you about it with me is because she was too embarrassed."

His brows furrowed as he tried to work through what Raven was saying. He really had no idea what she could be talking about. The fact that she was wearing an unusually slinky black dress beneath her cloak instead of her usual leotard wasn't helping his concentration, either! He'd only just now noticed it, and wondered why on earth she'd put it on.

She noticed him staring, and raised an eyebrow. It was Robin's turn to blush this time. "Like what you see?" she asked dryly, somewhere between coy and sarcastic.

He coughed to try and give himself time to think of something to say. It didn't work. "Well, I, uh, that is..."

Her expression was back to being blank and reserved as she pressed one soft finger to his lips. "Don't do yourself injustice by trying to talk. You've always been better at actions. Which is fine, because that's just what we had in mind. Come on, we don't want to keep Star waiting too long."

"What is Starfire waiting for? What weird scheme did you two plot together?"

She was already drifting off in the direction of Starfire's room, and glanced back just before the corner turn. "You coming or not?"

Sighing, he trotted after her, wondering why it was that only women, Slade, and Batman were capable of making him feel _this_ helpless. Hopefully there wasn't any kind of connection there.

Raven knocked at the door when they arrived. "Starfire? I brought him. You ready?"

"By all means enter, dear friend Raven and dear friend Robin!"

Robin hadn't ever noticed Starfire buying lamps, but they were the only thing lighting the room, so it took his eyes a little bit to adjust. When they did, he stood just inside the doorway, paralyzed and gawking.

Starfire was stretched out on her bed with a bashful grin, wearing only an intricate series of knotted, semi-transparent handkerchiefs that barely served to conceal her more intimate areas. Her pose was somewhere between awkward and seductive, and the uncertainty of it somehow only made her all the more attractive.

"Not bad," Raven commented idly while Robin was still picking his jaw up off the floor. "A bit frilly, but it works for you."

"Oh?" Starfire asked, playfully snobbish, one tiny eyebrow quirked. "And I suppose you have done the coming upwards with something better?"

"We'll let Robin be the judge of that." The robe and dress both slide down in a single smooth movement of telekinetic manipulation, and Robin's only path of retreat from the hopelessly bewildering scene was blocked by a Raven dressed only in a black, silky chemise, less revealing than Starfire's garb, but more clinging as well. "I thought you'd be more compliant if I sprung it to you like this," Raven answered his unasked question, smiling crookedly as she closed the door behind her. "We've decided... we both feel we're ready for something more... _intimate_... but neither of us wish to hurt the other's feelings by monopolozing you."

"And so we wish to know if you will consider allowing us to share you," Starfire continued the explanation cheerfully.

Robin stammered for a torturously long period of time, then just closed his eyes, focused on the situation as though it were a combat situation, took a deep breath, and pushed on ahead. This was scarier than Slade had ever been.

"Look... girls... I, I don't know what to say... I've never even thought of something like this before..."

"Oh, _that's_ a lie."

Somehow it seemed totally wrong for Raven to be her normal sarcastic self in this kind of situation. It seemed even more wrong that she was rolling her eyes while dressed like _that_. And Starfire was giggling! It was a conspiracy to make him look ridiculous!

"Robin, we do not wish to make you feel any of the discomfort. We wished to do this together, as friends, to complete the experience of sharing. But if you have a preference to be with us individually... perhaps myself first, for instance, and then Raven..."

"Or the other way around," Raven cut in sharply.

"...then we would also find that to be satisfactory," Starfire concluded, beaming.

He looked back and forth between them both. "You really have your minds made up on this."

They nodded, Starfire boldly, Raven more shyly.

"Okay... if you're both sure it will make you both happy... then I suppose..." and then his words drifted down so low that even _he_ could barely hear them.

Starfire tilted her head. "I am sorry, Robin, could you increase the volume of your voice?"

"...both at the same time..." Robin muttered a trifle louder, face burning.

"I _knew_ it," Raven said with a wickedly triumphant smirk.

"I just don't want to hurt anyone's feelings by choosing one of you over the other," he said hastily, panicked.

Raven sighed in exasperation. "Shut up and get in bed before I push you there."

Anxious to avoid any telekinetic meddling on Raven's part, he got into bed very quickly indeed. The girls took turns peeling his clothes off while he caressed their bodies each in turn, nervously at first, then with growing strength at their pleased reactions. Their fingers only hesitated when it was just his mask left. Green and lavender eyes peered through the mask into his, silently questioning.

He thought it over for a moment, then nodded, smiling. "Go ahead."

Raven took one corner of the mask, and Starfire the other, and they peeled at the same time, letting the fabric flutter to the floor like a landing butterfly. And then came more caresses, and kisses, and eventually outright gropings, rakings of nails, bites, licks, and bodies pressing against each other with heated intent. It was strange at first to divide his attention between the two of them, but eventually the three of them worked into a kind of rhythm, and his gradual explorations allowed him to figure out what they liked as they devoted themselves to figuring out his own likes. It wasn't the mechanical, overly theatrical lovemaking that he'd seen in his scant viewings of pornography. No, it was something different. Something better. Something that made him glad he'd waited this long before being with a woman. The mild clumsiness and uncertainty based on inexperience was mutual all around, and only served to ease their minds. There was lust, and plenty of it, a veritable torrent after having been ruthlessly dammed up for so long... but the dominant factor was affection. Love without barriers or denial or fear. They all expressed it in their actions in slightly different ways... Raven was sly and mischevious, Starfire passionate and straightforward, and he himself was somewhere in between, but they all meant the same thing by it. And at the end of it, when they all curled up together in the sheets, exhausted in an incredibly content way, his only regret was being unable to kiss them both at the same time.

"I love you, Robin," Starfire murmured in his ear, lazy and happy.

"And I love you too," Raven said in his other ear, "but if you tell anyone else I said that, my vengeance will be great and terrible."

He curled his fingers in their silky hair, appreciating the luxurious length of Starfire's and Raven's neat, almost delicate locks, and stared up at the ceiling in awe and wonder. He had never known it was possible to be so happy. "I love you too... I love you both... so much..."

He hadn't said those words to anyone since his parents had died. Even Batman, despite all he owed the man, had never heard the phrase from his lips.

So this was what it was like, to be utterly naked and vulnerable around other people. To feel affection without restraint and return it equally. To abandon the years of mental walls that protected him from the world. To stop being afraid to just enjoy people... completely...

The sheer joy of it was so intense that it was almost pain, like a light bright enough to blind the eyes into darkness. He wanted to cry from it, but didn't.

But his mask was staring at him from the floor. Accusingly. Angrily. Like a pet that had been left to starve. And somehow, it had grown teeth around the white eyeholes.

"Wake up," the mask said angrily, eyeholes opening and closing as mouths would have.

He blinked, then looked at the girls. They hadn't reacted. He had to be imagining things. The freakishness of the situation had made him delirious or something.

"Wake _up_, you stupid asshole!" the mask yelled. "Your teammates need you!"

"Wh-what..."

"Robin? Is something the matter?"

"Yeah, you look kind of weird."

"You're the leader of this pathetic spandex-clad lost boys outfit, aren't you?! Start _acting_ like it and get up off your ass!" the mask practically screamed.

He looked at both of them desperately. "Don't either of you hear that?!"

"Hear what, dear Robin?"

"The only thing I hear is you acting strange."

"Robin... we were not... displeasing in bed... for you, were we?"

"Oh, _God_, no," Robin said hastily.

"Alright. I know what'll do the trick." The mask sounded evilly smug, which set all the hairs on the back of Robin's neck on end. "_Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an eeeeeegg,_" the mask sang exuberantly. "_The Batmobile lost a wheel and the Joker got awaaaayay!_"

With a shriek of disgust, horror, and fury, Robin jerked upright, hands instinctively clasped the singer's throat in a stranglehold. "Don't _EVER_ sing that song," he hissed through gritted teeth. "I _HATE_ that song!"

Then he realized that he wasn't in the bedroom anymore. He was in some strange, cold metal room he'd never seen before in his life, sitting up on an uncomfortable body-length table. Starfire was there, and Raven, but so was Beast Boy, Starfire in her shapeless, concealing 'casual' clothes and everyone else, including himself, in uniform. They all had IV drips in their arms. And his hands were wrapped around the wooden, slightly splintery neck of the Russian Doll.

"I knew that would work," she said with gleeful sadism.

"Where am I, why are you here, and what the _hell_ is going on," Robin asked flatly, the old instincts of self-discipline reasserting themselves and keeping a thousand boiling, outraged emotions in check. His mind grasped on the one straw of sanity left for him to comprehend, like a drowning man grabbing driftwood. "Why hasn't Superman put you in jail yet?!"

The wooden golem drew herself up haughtily, arms crossing over her chest. "Oh, yes, _Superman_! I try to do you stupid heroes a favor and _that's_ the thanks I get! Sure, no problem, just get the most powerful hero in the known universe to bust the weakest villainess... okay, I try my best, dammit, but I don't even have any real powers now that my minions are locked up! Even the _Atom_ has better powers than me! What do I do?! I'm a collection of mobile wooden dolls, that's it! I had to break into LexCorp and steal a portable kryptonite-based laser just to get some breathing room away from that red, blue, and WASP asshole!"

"You stole a lasergun?!"

"It was self-defense! He was plastering me all over the streets! I only have two freaking mini-mes left!"

"It doesn't count as self-defense when you're defending yourself against law enforcement!" Robin shouted while waving his arms angrily, completely caught up in the surrealism of the moment. And then he bent over quickly, clutching his mouth. Ugh. Headache and nausea at the same time. Awful. He just barely managed to avoid puking.

"You okay, bird boy? You look as green as your trousers. Which are _hideous_, by the way."

"You still haven't answered any of my questions," he said tiredly, rubbing his face. Had it all been... just a dream? A hallucination? Or maybe _this_ was the hallucination, for all he knew. He looked around at his teammates, saw the rising and falling of their chests. No, it couldn't be fake... he could never imagine a world where the Russian Doll had not only escaped Superman to have this insane conversation. This was too stupid and pointless to be anything but reality. He felt his heart harden like iron at the realization. None of it had been real. None of it. He ripped the IV out of his arm as though it were a villain itself and deserved harsh treatment, feeling a mildly masochistic pleasure at the minor pain the action caused.

"After Superman decided I wasn't worth tangling with once I snagged the laser, he sent the cops after me. So I had to hide, and after a while I just started blasting holes in things to make quick getaways. That's how I ended up here." She pointed up to a large hole in the ceiling that Robin felt incredibly stupid for not noticing before. "And I saw you guys just taking naps here. I figured it had to be the work of some villain with nastier plans than mine, and I didn't want anyone else to defeat you before _I_ got the chance, so I woke you up."

He idly noted the overdone melodrama in that last statement, while the rest of his mind worked frantically on more important matters. He tried to sort out the lies from the truth in his memories. Back, back before the deliriously wonderful fake happy ending... what had happened? What had been the last important thing to happen? Of course, the news broadcast with Darker. They'd just seen it on tv... him, and Cyborg, and Beast Boy... and then there had been a loud crashing sound, and they'd looked outside and Starfire had been streaking off like a pissed off meteor. The rest of the Titans had followed as quickly as they could, hoping to get there at least not too far behind Starfire and stop her from doing anything... rash. But by the time they'd arrived, the place was a chaotic throng. He'd tried to get closer to Starfire and Darker, and then he'd felt cold, thin fingers yanking up his sleeve, and pinpricks... and then he'd blacked out.

"Your hypothesis seems about right," he grudgingly conceded. "As far as I can tell, we were kidnapped... though I'm worried that Cyborg's not here too. But you, you've got to have other reasons for wanting the Titans safe. You try hard but you're not that good an actor, Russian Doll. I can tell. You're not half as stupid as you like to come off as."

Her mouth opened and closed again, apparently not sure how to respond to _that_.

"Look," he said sharply, "whatever motives you've got, you might as well come clean. If you really want to help us, I'll see what I can do to lighten your sentence, but I need you to be honest and drop this ridiculous cheap 'I'm so evil' act. But do it while I wake up the others. There's no telling what kind of dangers are around here."

"Fine," the Russian Doll growled. "I don't think you'll be able to snap the fuzzball out of it, though. I tried him first. He's a cute kid. Sleeps like a bloody log, though. And that's coming from someone made of wood."

"He's a little more susceptible to mind control than the rest of us..." Robin admitted, shaking Starfire's shoulder gently at first, then more strongly. "Star, c'mon... wake up..."

"Well, it's like this. You know how there's basically three kinds of villains, right? The really nasty, badass ones... and then, a bit lower down, the mean but weak or incompetent ones... and then, below them, the complete weirdos who just live to do random crazy, harmless shit?"

"A little less language, please," Robin said, smacking Starfire's cheek, then finally just grabbing both shoulders and shaking her like a ragdoll. "Starfire! _STAR-FI-RE!_"

"Whatever. Anyway, some of us got together and decided that we weren't working out that great as heroes _or_ villains, but we didn't want to really _hurt_ anyone... so what we figured out was a way to still live a fun, jaywalk-over-the-laws life and still be useful to the world. We made up a charter and started a secret guild, where all the members would be petty villains who _pretended_ to cause harm, but really didn't do much of anything except let the heroes chase them around like headless chickens, while spicing up the dreary lives of said heroes with random entertainment."

This was such a strange thing, on top of all the other strange things, that Robin turned around slowly and stared at her. "What exactly are you talking about?"

"Look, you know how half the superheroes in the world are workaholics who never let themselves take a break?"

"I admit to nothing!"

"What?"

"Uh, nevermind. Go on."

"Anyway... there's so many superheroes that take themselves too seriously. They'd never have any fun at all if not for us. We're the ones who build giant monsters out of Legos. We're the ones who curse all the Amazons into growing penises for a fortnight. The ones who completely defy the laws of physics, man, and God... for the purpose of stealing completely worthless objects. The maniacal cacklers? They're us. The pompous speech-makers? Us. The ones who trip over their own capes and turn everyone into babies for twenty-four hours? Us again. If the Guild of Ludicrous Calamnity didn't exist, some heroes would never get any kind of a break from the serial killers, the rapists, the angst, the bloodshed, the heartbreak, the trauma of combat with cold-hearted killers they're never allowed to kill in turn. You guys _need_ people like us, otherwise being a hero'd be so depressing you'd all go on suicide missions and die out. And if we happen to score a little profit and fun on the side, well, consider that our bill for services rendered."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" Robin cried in outrage. "You commit crimes and cause chaos-"

"Ah _hah_, alliteration! See, we rub off on you! You know you love it."  
"Shut up! I can't believe there's an entire organization dedicated to people acting so irresponsibly under the self-deluded pretense of _helping_ superheroes by opposing them in ridiculous ways! How many of your awful guild members have been wasting our time?!"

"Well, as far as I'm aware, there's Mumbo Jumbo... and Mad Mod..."

"What?! Those two were working with the Brotherhood of Evil!"

"Of _course_ they were, do you think a group of crooks that big would escape the Guild's notice? They sabotaged it from the inside, and it's a damn good thing they did, too, considering how close you lot almost came to being frozen. That General Undying Senile Geezer guy would've had a hell of a lot more troops to throw at you if not for _us_, I can promise you that."

"Ugh... well, what about the Puppet King then? Is he one of yours?"

"Naw. He's cute, though. If he ever loosens up on life I would _so_-"

"Okay, thank you, just stop right there. Control Freak! He _has_ to be one of you! He's just so _stupid!_"

"Blech, no. Some people are just born dorks, you know?" The Russian Doll sighed. "The only other one I can remember off the top of my head is Mixizpul... that flying midget guy whose name I can't pronounce. Hates Superman. There's a ton more of us, though. Hundreds, all over the world."

"Oh, I'm _so_ glad to hear that."

"Sarcasm makes you look all wrinkly and unpleasant, you know."

"Shut up! God, why am I having this conversation in the middle of some random villain's lair when my teammates are still helpless?! See, this is what people like you do, you distract us from _real_ dangers! Starfire, rise and shine! Beast Boy! BEAST BOY, CYBORG IS PUTTING BACON IN YOUR MOUTH, WAKE UP! Dang it. Raven! Raven, I know you can hear me. You're the one with super-charged spiritual sensors, right? We have a connection. Raven, Raven, wake up... I need you all to wake _up_... guys, I can't do this without you..." He gripped Starfire's shoulder in one hand, and Raven's in the other, and squeezed tightly, _willing_ them to come back to him.

"Yarr! That be defeatist talk, cap'n," the Russian Doll said, for some reason assuming a pirate persona. He wondered if she even knew how to turn the random goofiness off anymore. "We can still triumph over these miscreants! Wherever the hell they are. I can't believe they haven't come in to investigate me messing up part of their base. Lucky us."

And with that, as though the Russian Doll had destiny itself dancing according to the precise opposite of whatever her stated wishes were, doors spaced all around the room whooshed open and line after line of thin, snakish-looking robots slithered in, back-mounted tentacles waving various sharp implements with unignorable menace.

"Aww, crud, I jinxed it," she moaned. "I should've known better than to say that!"

"Does that laser have any power left?" Robin asked matter-of-factly, sliding off the table and getting into a combat stance. His belt was gone, but he wasn't going to fail his friends, not _again_. No matter what it took, he swore he'd keep them safe. The mask was still on, it had never really come off, and he still had a job to do. He wasn't a person, he was an archetype, a symbol, and he'd crush anything that threatened the ideals he stood for. Any shreds of lingering sentiment were banished to the dark depths of his subconscious once again, and there was only the bird left. A bird of prey.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Ready to rock and roll, baby." She grinned like a lunatic and pulled the weapon out. It was about the size of a steroid-addicted wrestler's arm, and at least looked like it would work fine as a club if it ran out of energy. "_I've got loooove songs in my head, killin' us awaaayyyy..._" she sang with bloodthirsty joy. For some reason, the silliness of it suddenly struck Robin as creepy instead of just absurd at that moment.

Oh well. At least she wasn't unenthusiastic. He tried to decide what to say to command the charge before the robots penned them in too much. He settled on an abbreviated version of his usual cry.

"GO!"


	12. Part III, Chapter 2

**The music for this chapter is Evangelion's 'Crime of Innocence.' Because the best anime are the ones that make you wonder if this is what an acid trip feels like.**

Chapter 2: Between the Stars

The nearest thing Starfire could compare it to was space travel without a ship, as she had upon occasion availed herself of. Dark, cold, seemingly infinite emptiness. If there was light, it was too distant to be of any practical use.

And yet, for someone who had always considered herself a person that thrived on company, it was a relief to have such an atmosphere. At first, of course, she had panicked and tried to understand what was going on, like any normal person. But she was past that now. Now, she was simply... enjoying it.

With no other people, without even an environment to interact with, things were so much simpler. She didn't have to worry about unintended or intended hurts, misunderstandings, the stress of daily life as a superhero, or even petty things like what to wear or do. There was nothing to do! Nothing. She could just _be_. And no one would judge her for it, because no one was here.

Solitude had never been so blissful.

It was possible that she was dead, in which case, the afterlife could be better, but could be a lot _worse_, as well, so she had no reason to complain. Time was difficult to discern, and didn't matter in any case, for she had no body to suffer the effects of time's passage. She was never hungry, or thirsty, or hot, or cold, or anything at all other than simply still existing.

Consequently, she had a lot of time to think.

It was true, what Darker had said earlier... she was glad Blackfire was dead. She had tried so hard to live her sister, and been repaid for it in hurt, for her entire life. Blackfire'd gotten only what she deserved, and it had been long overdue. She had _hated_ Blackfire, and saw nothing of existence that was not bettered for the woman being wiped from it, and there was no one to judge her for those feelings!

Blackfire had never done anything but hurt people.

And what of Robin? Robin, the leader who never took a vacation. Never took off his mask. Robin, who tried _so_ hard to be perfect, and fell into the ironic trap of being imperfect solely for trying too hard. He had seemed to have learned, though, in Tokyo. He had seemed to have... progressed. Even if it had been through unnecessary hardship, as usual. But since then he had simply stalled, gone back to his old routine. He had not truly started dating her, nor had he become more comfortable expressing his affections for her either in public or private. No, actually, the opposite seemed to have happened. He turned from her to Raven. Raven, who always let herself act mean instead of taking the risk of opening up to others. Raven, who suffered primarily through situations of her own design and then took it out on others, particularly Beast Boy. Raven, who had ever so much in common with Robin, in that neither of them knew how to have fun or relax.

She was glad she didn't have to be around them right now. She had been around them for so long, they had become like furniture... you barely noticed it until you went to another house and saw their totally different furniture, and then you finally realized that your chair had an annoying squeak, and your table wobbled on one corner, while the neighbors' did not.

She didn't hate them. She wished she hated them, that would have been easier, but no. She was just _tired_ of them. She was tired of dealing with their little flaws constantly and them never doing anything to better themselves.

It was not _rekmas_, this feeling. No, if she ever found herself in their company again, she would act as she always had and they would still be friends. It was just a recognition that her suddenly solitary existence wasn't so bad, and that her previous life, filled with people and noise and action, had not necessarily been as good as she'd wanetd it to be.

And Beast Boy, as recent events had proven, was still just as thoughtless and immature as ever. Cyborg still seemed the same as he had been years ago... perhaps with so much of him being metal, he was unable to truly age in the way the rest of them were. Or were _supposed_ to, anyway.

She cared for them, not so much because she still felt the old passion and fire, but because it was a habit, and habits were self-perpetuating things. It was just easier to not think about a life that involved them no longer being her friends. The path of least resistance.

Like characters in a story, they simply played their roles, over and over and over again, always triumphant, but never really learning or growing from it.

The Teen Titans were stale.

She would never admit it to anyone else, nor even to herself in most situations, but it was true. The routines that had initially allowed them to be comfortable around each other were now what kept them separate, careful invisible walls built up to keep everything just the same as it was the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that.

She wanted change, growth, upwards movement.

But it would never be.

Raven would always be too grumpy to voluntarily reach out and express sentiment to people. Beast Boy would always act and speak without thought. Robin would always be devoted to the serious things in life above all else. And Cyborg would be his usual jovial, meat-loving, loud-mouthed self, always struggling with his patently obvious humanity, until his last day among the living.

And was she herself any better? Always so dependant on what people thought of her. Well, people hated her now, and there was no evading that painful fact. Darker had made everyone hate her. Her evil side had made people hate her... so did that mean she hated herself?

She was so tired.

Everyone loved Darker.

Darker was evil.

What kind of people would love evil?

Evil people, of course.

It was the only sensible conclusion.

She had built her entire life, her entire being on doing good for others. Others who were, as it turned out, not worthy of love and only threw it away when it was given to them anyway.

People didn't want love.

They wanted physical and emotional whores. Partners that would make them feel secure about themselves and their choices in life, instead of challenging them or drawing them out.

Everyone went through their lives thinking they wanted love, but what they _really_ wanted was someone to smile and tell them how right they were about everything, dear, and would you like to fuck now?

The entire existence of superheroism was proof of it. People hurt others, and fought others, and killed others sometimes, and because they did it in brightly-colored clothes instead of the depressing uniforms of warriors, they were allowed to get away with it, and they were able to think themselves good people for it. Because they never asked themselves questions like, how hard is it okay to hit someone made of stone? And, when that building sign crashes into the alleyway, are there any cats to get crushed by it? And, above all else, the question to _never_ ask... how many times can we put a person in jail, over and over, before we decide enough is enough and we kill them to stop them from hurting more people?

The only real difference between a superhero and a soldier was a thick, highly-concentrated wall of bovine excrement that encased the mind of the former.

No, Starfire decided... it wouldn't be so bad to live like this forever.

If she was destined to live a pointless repeating loop forever, she might as well do so in a place where no one could hurt her.


	13. Part III, Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Buried Angel Feathers

As if brushing off a thick layer of dust from an old painting to reveal the incredible beauty hidden undeneath, foggy thoughts and sensations in Beast Boy's mind eventually sharpened and merged to create a situation beyond wonder. He was stretched out on a grassy field, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and there were no ants to ruin the party. His head was on someone's lap, and soft hands were stroking his hair. He looked up, and saw Terra's face looking back down on him affectionately, her gaze steady and unashamed.

"Hey, sleepyhead. 'Bout time you woke up."

"Hey..." Beast Boy said slowly, not really believing it was real but not wanting to voice doubts for fear that it would make her go away. "You... you remember me, now?"

"Of course, silly. I'm sorry about before... all the times I hurt you... can you forgive me?"

"Of course," Beast Boy whispered, unconsciously continuing to parrot her. He noticed that she had the butterfly ornament back in her golden hair again. "Terra... is this heaven?"

Her lips curled into a playful smirk. "You define heaven as being with me? That's cute."

"Well... it's one of the perco... palin... _prerequisites_, anyway," he admitted, blushing. He reached up and brushed his fingers over her arm. It felt warm. Just like the real thing. Maybe it was the real thing?

He shivered faintly when she bent her head down to touch her lips to his, a gentle, fleeting kiss, like a brush of wind. "So what're the others? Things we should be doing, maybe, ya perv?" She winked and grinned briefly, teeth gleaming white. Her tone was more flirtacious than scornful.

But, come to think of it, he didn't feel horny at all. Which was particularly weird given the situation and the fact that, as a guy, he was horny most of the time anyway. But it wasn't bad. Relaxing. He was free to just enjoy being with her, and wasn't even nervous! Just being together... something he'd lost the hope of happening ever again.

"Heheh, I hadn't thought about it. It's so nice just being with you like this... even if you're a dream or a mirage or something like that. It's just, when I think about heaven, I think about all the people who'll be there, y'know?"

"Yeah. People are good," she agreed, tugging him up enough to wrap her arms around him in a hug. Her hair smelled like strawberry-scented shampoo.

Behind Terra were two of the other people he had been thinking of.

"Mom? Dad?"

They looked just like they had before the boating trip that had led to their deaths. Only, even more happy and loving than ever. They smiled and waved at him with the airs of people who wanted to say hi but didn't want to interrupt a private moment.

He wanted to talk to them, but he didn't want to let go of Terra. So he did the obvious thing, and trotted over to them while towing her along in one arm, his grip around her waist tight, as though she'd vanish if he let go. For all he knew, she would.

"Oh my God... Mom, Dad... I, I..." He was suddenly nervous for a change. What would they think of him? He'd changed so much after all the years. He was wearing purple and black spandex!

"It's good to see you again, Garfield," his mother said soothingly, pulling him and incidentally Terra into a hug that his father soon joined in as well. "We've missed you so much."

"It's very nice here, but a little boring withoutcha," his father said with a grin after the embrace ended. "So, are you gonna introduce us to your girlfriend?"

"She's not my-" Beast Boy started to say reflexively, then hesitated and looked at Terra. "Are you?"

She smirked and squeezed him possessively. "You saying you don't want me?"

He grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay, I guess you are, then. Mom, Dad... this is Terra. Terra... these are my parents."

"Hm, I don't think she could have been too bad an influence on you... you seem to have turned out pretty well. My son, the superhero! Givin' Superman a run for his money, I'll bet."

"Oh, honey, stop it, you're embarrassing him. Besides, he hasn't even talked to his other friends yet. We shouldn't be monopolizing him, he needs his independence."

The other Titans were suddenly around him. Robin had his mask off, and shockingly, looked a little plainer and more ordinary without it. Raven had her hood down. Cyborg and Starfire were... Cyborg and Starfire, just like always.

"Hey, Beast Boy. I'm sorry I threatened you with prison back when you had that chemical spill. I should've had more faith in you."

"Friend Beast Boy, I am sorry I did not spend more time with you playing the games of television beeping and blipping. I was too distracted by Robin to recognize real friends like you."

"And while apologies are going on, I might as well admit that I was always a lot meaner to you than I should've been. There were times when I wanted to smile or give you a hug or laugh at your jokes, but... I was scared to, you know?"

"And I've given up meat!"

"Aww, crap," Beast Boy muttered, as reality sank in like an anvil. The desperate hope that it was all somehow real faded instantly, and though everything was the same, his perception of it was different, so the joy was dead and gone as if it had never been there in the first place. Just dust and ashes.

"Whassa matter, BB?" Terra asked. "Aren't you happy? We want you to be happy, Beast Boy... we all love you..."

"Yeah, and I love you all too," Beast Boy said sadly, looking around at the beaming faces of friends and family. "So many times I've dreamt of something like this happening, even though I knew it never could. And I wish I could stay with you all, like this, forever... but you're not real."

"Don't be silly, Garfield! You'll feel better after our next trip to Africa. Your friends can come along, and we can teach them about the birds and beasts of plain and jungle..."

And, in fact, the scenery was already changing. Daylight faded into a tranquil darkness, longer, less green grass rustled under his feet, and fireflies began flickering about. It was perfect.

"This is really nice and all, guys, but you're not real. I _know_ you're not, 'cause even if we were all dead and in heaven, there's no _way_ Cy would ever give up meat."

He closed his eyes and began to walk off, away from them, hoping that attempting physical distance from the delusion would make it go away. They were calling for him, begging for him to stay. They couldn't be happy without him. They _needed_ him. If he stayed, they would all be happy together, forever and ever.

The voices faded, step by step, until they were barely audible, words blurring together. He instinctively knew that if he took one more step, they'd be gone entirely.

How many filthy layers of time and regret and mistakes would have to pile up before this could be real for him? How much longer would he have to live an imperfect life before the perfect finally came? He didn't know, he didn't think he even wanted to know. It was easier, to just keep on walking the walk and talking the talk and not thinking too much about how much your feet ached or you were running out of useful things to say. All journeys ended someday. God willing, his would end at his grandmother's house and not in the wolf's mouth.

Living was kind of a sick game, really. Every angel he ever met, life plucked the feathers from it... by his mistakes, or theirs, or just random crap. Plucked the feathers and left the angels to be buried, and all the good things about them hidden underneath a pile of things he wished had gone differently. Most of the time he didn't think about it, except when he was trying to go to sleep at night, but this latest thing had hurt so much because it had forced him to think of it. To miss those tiny moments of innocence and pure joy that were always murdered and left to rot sooner or later.

But that was way too much gothing, he wasn't Raven, right? Heh. Just one more stupid thing to bury deep in his head. Maybe someday he'd see everything like this for real, all the angels unearthed and cleaned up and set free to fly. But until then, he still had a normal life to live, with all its crap. And he could handle it. He'd make them proud. When he _really_ spoke with his parents again, he'd be a son they'd be proud of.

Beast Boy took the last step.

Reality came in the form of a headache, a dry mouth, and an upset stomach, all at once. Squinting through watery eyes, he looked around, afraid to move his head too much for fear of it worsening the pounding in his skull. He heard the Russian Doll somewhere nearby, and Robin... Robin was trying to wake up Starfire and Raven.

Hmm. Robin was paying attention to the hot chicks while totally ignoring _him_.

Yep, this was real life, alright.

And then, while he was still laying still and waiting for all the pissed off parts of his body to calm down, a bunch of snakey robots started slithering in. Beast Boy irritatedly wished his life wasn't so weird that _slithering_ _robots_ were more likely to be real than his parents being around and all his friends liking him.

Oh well, he couldn't leave Robin and Doll to take them on by themselves. Even if Doll had gotten a really nasty-looking lasergun from somewhere. He gave himself to the count of three, and heaved himself off the table onto his feet.

His head swam, he stumbled, and he threw up. It was an Exorcist projectile special, too. To his horror, it soaked part of Raven's cloak. Oh, boy, she was gonna be _so_ mad at him when she woke up. And she already hated him enough as it was!

It also announced his presence to the others, but unfortunately not before Robin managed to slip in some of the puke and crack his head, swearing like he'd very firmly told them to never do.

"Yo, green stuff! Sick and awake's better'n well and asleep when there's Star Wars rejects on the loose! Give us a helping paw, or tentacle, or whatsit!"

Aww, the Russian Doll was glad to see him. He wondered if there was any way he could bribe her to stop being evil. He also wondered if she liked video games. Spitting the remains of the vomit from his mouth disgustedly, he was glad that the nausea was as brief as it was intense. The headache wanted to stick around and make itself comfortable, though.

"One paws and claws special comin' right up!" he said, determined to make up for Robin's little fall, and turned into a bear, wading into the masses of robotkind to maul until there was nothing left worth mauling. Their bodies were just slim enough to fit perfectly into his mouth in bear form, too. How nice of them.

But before he'd taken down more than a couple, he felt some nasty pricks in his neck and jerked back with a roar that turned into a yelp as he morphed back into normal. Grr, he needed to work a lot harder on staying in animal form even when he got surprised by junk like that. His next morphing, though, didn't happen. It just... didn't _work_. Shocked, he back away from the robots frantically.

"Beast Boy, what's the matter?" Robin yelled with his leader-in-battle-mode voice, leaping in front to defend his teammate with staff and feet. "These things aren't much of a threat, but I can't defend you and take them out at the same time!" It was true. The robots were just slow enough that Robin could crush them if he didn't have any distractions, but their numbers were too much for him to be able to take them down while also blocking every attack towards him and Beast Boy.

"I don't know! I tried to change but I couldn't do it!"

"Well, try harder!"

He closed his eyes and focused with all his might. Every muscle in his body tensed and strained. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Finally, he did his best Dragonball powerup imitation, hoping that that would somehow help.

"Errrrrrrggghhhh..."

It was _working_... it _had_ to be working, he could _feel_ it!

"...graaaaahhhhhhhhhhh..."

The power was practically pouring off him, formed and shaped by his iron will. He wouldn't have been surprised if his hair had changed color. Or his whole furry body, for that matter. He hoped that if it did, it was at least a cool color. Please, God, not tangerine!

"...aaahhhhhhhhhhhGGAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!"

He passed gas in a loud squeak.

"Aww, man..." At least the girls weren't awake to see this.

"Hahah, your puny pokings have no power over me, pathetic robotic wretches!" the Russian Doll cackled, as a dozen tentacles swarmed her and tried to stick her with needles, with the only result being that all the needles broke.

"That's it, the needles!" Robin snarled, taking down half a dozen robots all at once with a sweep of his staff, then vaulting over one that had come between him and Beast Boy, crushing its head in the process. "Beast Boy, they all have needles! They must be programmed to inject nanites, like the ones Slade was using before!"

Beast Boy frantically looked back and forth at each and every robot. Yep, every single tentacle had a needle sprouting out, now that he was focusing to see them clearly. It was like being in a doctor's torture chamber, without any lollipops.

"Dude! You mean the power-sucking mini robot thingies?! They got me?! What am I supposed to do now?!"

"Back into a corner and try not to be noticeable!"

"I _cannot_ believe I gave up heaven for this," Beast Boy moaned, obediently hiding in the nearest corner, pressing flat against the wall.


	14. Part III, Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Grieving Omega

Like snow melting before the gentle but persistent encroachment of a warm sun, Raven gradually, gladly yielded to Malchior's attentions. He said the perfect words in the perfect way, and did everything just right. Smooth and soft and full of wit and gentle good humor. Her only weapon against it had been her initial simple disorientation and confuse, and she gladly threw them away when she understood everything.

The Titans (including an untreacherous Terra) were playing volleyball on the roof, leaving the two resident sorcerous bookworms to each other in the soothingly dark confines of Raven's room. Malchior, a dragon? Please, it was patently ridiculous, wasn't it? He loved her. He complemented her perfectly. He anticipated her every need. Sure, they had fights sometimes, _everyone_ had fights, but they were always quickly resolved and never irritating repeats of previous ones. A bundle of roses still rested in a vase on her dresser, an apology gift from Malchior from the _last_ time they'd argued.

All the heated passion had been spent most enjoyably, and they were simply appreciating each other's warmth and nearness now. He told her sweet nothings while his fingers trailed over her jaw and neck, and she smiled and accepted them, and even returned a few of her own. She was still just a bit shy and awkward, still in awe over him, but he didn't mind. He didn't mind at all. Any imperfections she might have had only made her more endearing to him.

"I hope Robin's not still crushing on me," she said idly at one point, very nearly the only worry left in her mind.

"Can you blame him, my dear rook? You are a woman of grace and wisdom without compare, after all." Her cheeks heated at that. She supposed she'd get used to the flattery eventually. Just not today. "But I think he and Starfire have begun to, as they say, patch things up."

"That's good. I... I think I should meditate now..."

"But why? You already have complete mastery over your powers."

"Maybe, but it's something familiar. It helps me to relax. And I think I need some relaxing after what we just did," she said dryly.

"As you wish, my fair one. I suppose I shall attempt this strange volleyball game your friends spoke of, then. I have heard it is more enjoyable with even numbers of players, after all."

"Good luck with that. Just don't underestimate Beast Boy. His serves tend to go all over the court. Makes it hard to predict the arc for a return."

Malchior chuckled and finished slipping on his robes. "Thank you for the warning, my lady."

Meditation. Meditation was an anchor in her life. It was important, not just because she needed it, but because she'd grown accustomed to it. It didn't matter that it didn't seem to be necessary anymore. A life without meditation was like a life without shoes or chairs.

Besides, if she took some time to herself to be calm, she could become used to her new surroundings all the quicker.

Her powers came as easily as they ever had. Easier. She was levitating in lotus position with a mere flicker of a thought. There wasn't the slightest whisper or aftertaste of demonic influence. Potential danger? Please. She could probably build a skyscraper out of playing cards if she wanted to. There was no danger here.

She didn't even need to say the words, but she said them anyway, for old time's sake.

"Azarath, metrion, zinthos..."

She floated in a void, her mind wiped clean. A state of perfect nothingness, of being without feeling. Nothing from without disturbed it.

But then something from inside raked angry claws over her mind in a pulse of heat and a discordant, awful screech like that of nails on a blackboard.

Intolerable. Whatever neglected tiny piece of psyche that was causing this would soon be fixed, or banished. She bade the interruption to show itself fully.

_You stupid bitch._

Red. Red cloak, red hood, four red eyes. Her personal embodiment of Rage had come to spoil the party for some reason. It really needed to stop acting up. Fighting was pointless. Frustration and anger were pointless.

_How dare you tell yourself it's all pointless! You wrapped yourself up in nice soothing chains of sleep and dreaming, like a drooling senile hag curled up into embryo position!_

It should have obeyed her desire to be quiet, but apparently Rage had something on its mind, and she supposed the only thing to do was left it spit out whatever it wanted to say, so that the idea could be confronted and disposed of.

_Is THIS the daughter of Trigon? This pathetic, stupid girl? How can you be so dense?!_

Whatever it had to say, it should just say it. Else Raven would simply have to stop meditating and deprive the emotion of its chance to say anything at all. There was a whole world of pleasing distractions to occupy her mind, after all. She didn't need to listen if she didn't want to.

_Fine, damn you. With all your arcane lore, don't you realize what this is? How can you be so blind?! This is all a trap, a delusion! NONE OF THIS IS REAL! YOU SHOULD WAKE UP AND DISMEMBER WHATEVER FOOL DARED TO PUT YOU IN THIS POSITION!_

Oh, was that all. Raven allowed herself a faint, grim smile, something very unusual for her even at normal times, let alone in a meditative state. Rage acted like that was some sort of revelation... still, she hadn't thought it through fully to herself, and therefore had still been denying it. Denial was bad. Time to be honest with herself. She _knew_ it wasn't real. The red form seemed to ripple and sputter uncertainly at the thought, like a fire that had gotten ice suddenly dropped on it.

_You know it's not real?!_

Please. She wasn't stupid. She might tell herself she was stupid, from time to time, as everyone told themselves, but she understood fully what was going on. The world she was currently in was a construction based on her own personal wishes. She'd known that, instinctively if not in concrete thought, since she'd first encountered Malchior again.

_If you KNOW it's not real, you damn idiot, then why are you still playing along?! People are laughing at you for it! You dupe! You're like a battered wife, too afraid to do anything but sit there and take it!_

It was a funny thing, talking to oneself. Too much of it was probably a sign of madness. But often it could also be a path to inner understanding. Some truths could only be embraced only by carrying out inner arguments. She knew it wasn't real, and she was enjoying it anyway, and not doing a damn thing to change it. Because she knew at the bottom of her heart that it was the only way she'd ever be happy.

Rage had nothing to say to that.

Almost clinically, she watched the other emotions appear in all their many colors, stared at them as though they were an audience she were performing for. They stared at her in turn. Faces blank. Waiting, she realized. Waiting for her to explain herself fully to... herself.

The real world had so much pain in it, didn't it? So much needless, pointless hurt and suffering. Things both petty and grand, they all served their part in the great cauldron of misery. The human condition... or half-demon condition, or Tamaranian condition, or whatever one could call it... was filled with the same mistakes repeated endlessly. Even if, through one life, a single person made the unlikely triumph of learning from mistakes and not repeating them before it was too late to salvage his or her ties to other living creatures, once that person passed on, all that became irrelevant. Because new people were born, and had to make their own mistakes, and learn or fail to learn on their own. People were incapable of learning by abstract analysis. They could only improve by way of personal experience. Therefore, the logical conclusion was that people were incapable of improving themselves over the long term, due to the nature of their psychology.

She stopped her thoughts there for a moment, to see if any of the emotions had a rebuttal. But they were still quiet, still paused. Even the four eyes of Rage were placid in helplessness. They couldn't rebut her logic, because there was no rebuttal. So they waited for her to finish the chain.

People were, therefore, destined to misery and self-destruction. So what was the point in trying to save them, over and over, from themselves? Even if such good were done in the world that every person in it were saints at the end, the saints would still die, and new sinners would be born. Trigon had tried to bring Hell to Earth, but he had ultimately failed because it had been a redundant act. Hell was already on Earth. Demons already capered in malicious glee, not just inside her, but in every person with free will. In every unnecessary argument, in every shed tear and drop of blood, in every slap and punch and scream, in every angry, self-involved rant on Livejournal, in the wars and the breakups and the murders and the deadened friendships. At the end of it, each person, including herself, was doomed to their own inner demons, and there was no way to change that.

The only sensible thing, the only _logical_ thing, was to live one's life attempting to get as much pleasure as one could, because energy spent on anything else might as well be tossed into a bottomless pit. So what if that meant living in a fake world? If that was the only way to be happy, then wasn't happiness better than misery, when it came down to that? Reality was hopeless. Unreality was much better.

The void that surrounded Raven and her emotions seemed to be working itself into a subtle, overarching shape now. She watched as the dark solidified into cloth as black as a black widow spider's body. She watched the other emotions cower together, shrinking down, bound by the invisible power of the new emotion... the very old emotion... that had only just now truly been recognized by Raven enough to represent itself.

Above and around them all, a black cloak loomed, and above the cloak, a hood with impenetrable shadows. She would have asked the thing its name, purely for the sake of the thing, but somehow knew that _she_ was its mouth now. She would speak its name because she knew it already, and because she _was_ it.

Raven watched as a single sideways-oriented eye, located about where the forehead would have been, opened up in the black hood and stared down at her. It was her eye, the same color and shape, but utterly bloodshot. Dry because it had already wept all the tears any eye could weep, and was now a desert, with no more hope for sustaining life than a barren wasteland.

"Trigon may have chosen Rage as his vessel," Raven said calmly to the lesser, utterly subdued emotions, "but Despair is mine. And not even the powers of Hell can break you free of its chains."


	15. Part III, Chapter 5

**Well, that's it for the mindscrew section of the story. This last chapter in the section will serve as the villainous philosophical ultimatum that ties all the gloomy bits and pieces together. The next and final section of the story concerns how the Titans finally manage to rally back and kick evil butt.**

**You know, I've always liked Fixit. His aesthetics, the body, the voice, the personality, it was all just plain freaky. I wish they'd used him as more than just a oneshot in the cartoon. And I wish he'd been defeated in a less lame manner, too.**

Chapter 5: New Old Life

**SYSTEM REBOOTING**

**ERROR #380**

**UNABLE TO LOCATE ANCILLARY CORE SYSTEM**

**ERROR #562**

**UNABLE TO LOCATE PRIMARY MUSCULAR COMPONENTS**

**ERROR #584**

**UNABLE TO LOCATE ANCILLARY MUSCULAR COMPONENTS**

And there was more. A lot more. But Cyborg started ignoring the scrolling text in his cybernetic eye from that point. The meaning was real clear, even if too many words were being used to express it. He'd never bothered putting in a compressed summary version of these sorts of messages, since he didn't really expect to be reduced to bits and pieces on a regular basis.

He couldn't feel anything but his head. He couldn't move. His human eye was blurry, and the higher viewing functions on his cybernetic eye were on the fritz.

He could still hear, though.

Oh, boy, could he hear.

A thousand thousand little tiny scritching noises he couldn't identify, and the hum of high-powered computer equipment, and then Fixit.

"Sir, your counterpart appears to be reactivating. Would you like me to shut his systems down once more?"

"Naw, let 'im come to. This cute little escape attempt is gettin' nice and hot, and it'd be a shame for him to miss it. You know what, move one of the monitors up close so he can see the action better."

That was _his_ voice. Well, given everything they'd learned lately, it made sense. There was an evil Starfire, so why not an evil him? The only thing missing was an evil Beast Boy.

"Yes, sir."

"Look," he said, or _tried_ to say, but the part of his body that handled vocal projection was mostly detached, so all that came out was a harsh breathy noise. At least his eyes were clearing up. He could see properly now.

He was in a well-lit room, clean steel all around, computers and high-tech equipment set up all over the place. There was a monitor just a couple feet in front of him, displaying Robin, the Russian Doll of all people, and Beast Boy fighting a bunch of serpentine robots while Starfire and Raven remained seemingly comatose on tables. It was this that immediately caught his attention and held it, till he realized that they didn't seem to be in any immediate danger from the sluggish automatons, and then he allowed himself to inspect the rest of the room. All of his body was spread out on similar tables surrounding him. A bit of his neck, one shoulder, and some torso was still attached to his head, but that was about it. Fixit hovered around, moving from one place to another to perform various computational and mechanical tasks, and the scritching sound was very clearly coming from a series of transparent bins along the sides of the walls, that were filled to the brim with tiny gnat-like black specks that constantly shifted around and around. And plugged into the wall in front of him, wires and cords trailing from every inch of his exposed circuits, was _his_ evil twin. Still the same freaky shades of gray. The guy looked almost more like a creepy sculpture than a living, mobile thing. But then he grinned, and the illusion was dispelled.

"Wakey wakey. Eggs and bacey." It was disturbing to watch the motors and other mechanics move in the exposed throat to make the sound, so that it didn't emerge from the mouth, but from the neck. His duplicate hadn't even bothered to move his lips for the words, which only made it even more grotesque.

Cyborg had _just_ the right comeback for that, too, but being unable to say anything, simply glared in disgust. He spared a cold look for Fixit, too. Nothing sucked more than bad guys who turned good who turned bad again. It was the sort of 'I should have seen this coming' feeling that always felt like a kick in the head, even more than any ordinary betrayal.

"Sorry for taking your voice away, man," his evil opposite went on talking, still without moving his mouth. "But those self-righteous speeches get a lil annoying, you know? Yeah, having heard 'em from Robin so often, we both know you know. Like the tv show? I'm letting them fight a few drones to gather a bit more data. Once I've gotten all the info I want... or I get bored, whichever comes first... I'll have the drones repair themselves and run the new tactical subroutines to put our little troublemakers back to bed. 'Cept for that wooden lady, of course. Her, I'll just have them kill."

Cyborg looked with intense hatred on his other self, unable to believe anything so wretched and monstrous had come from inside him. If he had just one hand to curl into a fist, he'd crush the jerk until there was nothing left to crush.

"I know you must be hating me so much right now," his other half side, as if telepathic. "What do you think of me as, I wonder? Another you? I guess I have to admit I owe a lot to you... all that I am, really... but I'm not you, so I'll spare you that bit of existential mopin'. I'm like the hollow space left behind when you cut a shape out of some dough. So, if you want to call me evil Cyborg, you go right ahead, but I prefer to think of myself as Deader. I was the first one of us to name myself, y'know. Because I wanted a name that reflected my purpose. But you don't wanna hear about all that stuffy old philosophical crap, do ya? Naw, let's watch Robin kick some more ass. Doing pretty good, ain't he? If I hadn't made those 'bots of nanites specifically so they could reform from injuries whenever I wanted them to, I'd be pretty pissed off at all the wreckage he's causing. He always fights so damn perfect, don't he. Makes him a bit too stuck up... but that's why I'll be clipping the birdy's wings before he can hurt himself flyin' into the sun."

There was nothing to compare with the feeling of utter, sickening helplessness. Even when Slade had rendered him similarly useless _twice_ before... even when Brother Blood had similarly turned him into scrap metal... he hadn't really believed it was The End. But now, staring at the embodiment of his own personal evil, the thing that called itself Deader, he thought to himself that this would be a frighteningly appropriate way to die. Killed by yourself, by your own mistakes, by your worst nightmare wearing your face.

"So, like the new decor?" One wire-wrapped hand gestured briefly to a corner with a block of ice Cyborg hadn't noticed before. Raven, or at least someone who _looked_ like Raven, was embedded in it, stuck in the middle of an argumentative pose. It had to be the shapeshifting one Robin had told them about. "Yeah, he looks better like this. I tried to get him to help me, but _damn_, you think me and Darker are a little off the hook? He's _really_ fucking crazy. It was all I could to do keep the stupid little bastard from going on a public killing spree long enough to get him to play demoralize-the-Titans. The kid was way too wild, so I decided to let him stay like this, instead of freeing him and taking the risk of him monkeying with my plans. And boy, let me tell you... do I have plans. All thanks to you, really."

Cyborg remembered just about the only method of communication left to him, and carefully arranged a series of ASCII characters on his mechanical eye to resembling a hand giving Deader the finger. Deader grinned again at it.

"Yeah, man, don't get bitter like that, 'cause it's _all_ 'cause of you. You think I'd still be here if you'd been able to beat me the first time? You think I'd be anything as powerful as I am now if you'd just plain fought to the death and lost? Naw. The fact that you all ran from us, stopped trying to face us... that gave us all a nice little power boost. Trickster got more tricky, Darker got stronger and faster, and me? I got smarter. All that stuff you daydreamed about doing with nanites to make the world a better place? I can do it. Of course, I ain't _gonna_, because I've got better ideas since, as I mentioned, I'm smarter than you, but I _could_ if I wanted to. Right now I'm working on perfecting some nice new ones to toy with brain chemistry. With a human, a half-demon, a Tamaranian, and... whatever the hell the little green nuisance is, I've got a pretty good sample size to perfect the control mechanisms. And in time, oh, such wonderful things you will see. That's why I left your head unfooled with." Deader reached forward and ran a finger over Cyborg's skull, to the latter's immense revulsion. "I want you to be around to witness what I bring forth. To understand why it's happening. And to remember that it's all your fault, you weakling."

Somehow the fact that the details were left undescribed only made it worse. It left Cyborg's imagination free to create all sorts of horrific, bloody scenarios. And it _would_ be all his fault. Deader was telling the truth about that much. So angry from fear that he couldn't think straight, Cyborg tried to talk again, and to his shock, words actually came out this time.

"Shut your damn fool mouth," he snarled, "or at least move your lips when you talk. That's just fuckin' uncouth."

He did a doubletake at the realization, eyes moving down to try and examine his throat. He couldn't see much due to the angle, but he did spot a telltale blue glow. He'd seen that glow before. Just once. He thought he'd never see it again. YES. This was it, this was his way out, his way to come back and smack evil tail and make everything right again! If he could just figure out how to make it happen!

Deaderseemed less impressed.

"Oh, that funky Dragonball aura bullshit? Yeah, I figured that out a while back when I was doing some research into magic to figure out the right nanites to disable Raven's powers. Have I thanked you yet for gifting me with this wonderful higher intellect and faster processing speed? Yeah, thanks. You can glow all you want, man, but it won't help you. That energy's your _life force_ you're fooling with with all your instinctive amateurism. So go ahead, spend a decade of your life putting yourself back together like you did with Brother Blood. I'll just tear you apart again, no problem. That is, if you can even manage that much with your random mental fumblings. Pity Raven never taught you about this kinda thing, huh? Prolly 'cause she likes to be the only one who knows this shit, so she can pretend she's better than everyone else."

"Life, huh... it all comes back to life, doesn't it," Cyborg said slowly, trying to stall for time while he figured out what the hell he'd done and how he could do it again, cost to his lifespan be damned.

"Oh, yeah. What people miss, though, is that death and life are really the same thing. The whole biological process of living is made possible by other things dying. People've forgotten that. I'm gonna remind them."

"I guess you reminded Fixit pretty good, huh."

"Oh, hell no. I tried, at first, 'cause he seemed like the kind of guy who'd understand, but he didn't wanna go for it. So I just took direct control over his body and brain chemistry. If all you wanna do is make someone absolutely loyal to you, the nanite programming actually ain't that hard. Not compared to some of the other stuff I'm still working on, anyway."

"You even worked with Slade. Man, you have no shame. You make me sick."

"If I didn't inspire that kinda reaction in you I wouldn't even be here. I'm around because I'm everything you were too scared to admit to yourself. Real antipathy comes from identifyin' with the opposition and being unable to accept that."

Beast Boy had been hiding in a corner for a long time now. The Russian Doll had run out of charges on her funky laser weapon and was using it as a club. Robin was still more than holding his own, though. He tried to note all these things in minute detail without letting Deader notice him noticing them.

"So, what am I so scared to admit to myself?" he asked. If he kept the bad guy on a roll, he'd be able to James Bond his way out of this. Somehow.

Deader casually picked his head up and started tossing him from one hand to another.

"_HEY_! STOP THAT! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, BEAST BOY?!" There was no way he could see _anything_ properly the way his vision was spinning now. At least he wasn't getting sick to his stomach from it, if only because his stomach wasn't currently attached to him.

"Life is inherently of no greater worth than the lack of life, Cyborg," Fixit said unexpectedly, his calm, mechanized voice drifting over from a corner where he stood polishing a display panel.

"Thanks, Fixit. Couldn't have said it better myself. Cy, you keep on learning and relearning the same damn lesson over and over. Oh, I'm human. I'm human. I'm human! Whoo. Who gives a fuck? You know you're human but you don't even know what that means."

"That's a... load of... bull," Cyborg said as best he could through the juggling torture. "Fixit! You remember, man! What being human is about! The laughter, the love, the friends!"

"These things are not of inherent worth simply because humans prefer them to other experiences," Fixit replied.

"You're a lucky cyborg, Cyborg," Deader said, suddenly cradling his head close like a baby. "I'm gonna tell you something you weren't bright enough to figure out on your own. Life? It's just a chemical process. Maybe a lot faster and more fragile than stars or planets, but still, just a process. Different things come together on one little patch of the universe. They fight against each other. Hurt each other. Fuck. Breed. Die. Plant, animal, machine. It's all the same. Chemical. Processes."

"You're saying there's no difference between us and animals?"

"Oh, there's a big fuckin' difference, but it's one that shouldn't be there. Over time us humans got so spoiled in our little cities, not having to worry about surviving anymore, that we started making up shit to keep our brains busy. Spirits. Religion. Fate. Karma. The afterlife. Do you see animals doing that shit? Naw, they just live. And then they _stop_ living. That's all life is. And if you pulled your head out of your ass long enough to be honest with yourself, you'd know that too."

"How can you say there's no afterlife?! Look, I'm no expert on religion, but you were summoned by a freakin' demon!"

"What demon? I didn't see any demon. I saw a big-ass red giant with a nice head ornament. If demons can have their asses kicked like anything else, how does that make Hell different from Earth? Hm? Where's the fuckin' spirituality? It's just one more aspect of life as far as I'm concerned. One more stupid race of people too lazy and spoiled for their own good, so they decide to spend lots of time screwing around with things that don't matter."

It was... actually a scarily good point, but _he_ wasn't gonna admit that. No way was he going to lose an argument to an embodiment of evil. He'd aced debating in high school!

"The fact that we _have_ spirituality and love and all the rest of it means being human is worth something! Maybe there's no proof to any of it, but we _feel_ it anyway, so if it comes all spontaneous then we must have a reason for needing it."

"Please. Every single so-called higher urge in humanity can be explained as a mutated, out of control survival instinct. Love is just the desire to fuck coupled with the desire to live in groups for safety. Religion is just a convenient excuse to keep warriors from running away like wusses in a fight. It's all just smoke and mirrors, and the only reason people ever invest so much in it is 'cause they're so goddamn desperate to believe that there's more to life than there really is. So they distract themselves with things. Do I really need to talk about how your appreciation for food increased drastically after you lost the ability to fuck or even jerk yourself off? Thought not. You're so damn good at distracting yourself. You _live_ to keep yourself from thinking, _really_ thinking, about shit like this. Video games and cars and food and combat practice. Like most people, you dove down into life so deep you came out the other side and didn't even realize you'd stopped living."

"You go on about how I'm distracting myself, but how does that make me deader than you, _Deader_, if I'm experiencing everything I can?"

"You're only experiencing what you wanna experience. You built up your little intellectual and philosophical lies like cozy furniture in an apartment, and you don't dare move the furniture around or try to get new furniture now, or Buddha on a frickin' pogo stick, look out the goddamn window! No, you gotta stay just the way you are. Things may change but things _never_ change. You know what I'm talking about. You're not the only one doing it. Starfire, Raven, Robin, Beast Boy... when was the last time you ever really saw them change or grow or evolve? They don't because there's no _way_ for them to, not the way you all want to. Humanity's come as far as they can when it comes to the 'greater' things in life, and they've ended up at a dead end, unable to go any further, still unenlightened, still frustrated, still wanting things they don't even know they want."

For the first time, Cyborg felt, not just irritated that his other half had scored a logic point, but genuinely disturbed because the chain of logic was halfway believable. It correlated with his personal experience far too well.

When _had_ the Titans last changed as people?

How long had it been, now?

Too long.

Too long, for people that still weren't totally happy or trusting around each other. Recent events had proven that without a doubt.

Running in wheels like hamsters...

"You get it now," Deader said almost happily, patting Cyborg's head as though he were a quick student. "You're hesitating, and you wouldn't do that unless you're really thinking about what I said. No, don't deny it. Don't bother. I came _from_ you and grew _beyond_ you, you can't lie to me. All of civilization is just a lie. Oh, technology, that's fine. But culture, religion, philosophy, the great passionate ups and downs of Shakespeare's long-ass plays... all lies. The tears you cry sometimes, because you long for the body you never had? The cute little warm fuzzy moments you shared with the other Titans? The bad jokes that make you groan and the good ones that make you laugh till you quiver? That dance with Jinx that made your heart go pitter-patter even though you _knew_ you can't satisfy a woman... all those things are going to stop happening. They don't belong, they're interference in the natural order of things. They're a denial of the most simple fact of life there is, that there's nothing _besides_ life. And it's cessation. And I'm going to make it all... stop."

Deader's voice had sunk to a whisper at the end, and Cyborg shivered at the sound of it, almost a religious feeling itself in its own way. Controlled, subdued passion and fervency, a ferociously-burning star in the middle of an absolute zero void. So he asked the only thing he _could_ ask, even though he didn't really, by this point, want to know.

"What are you planning to do?"

"_'And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.'_ People live in the desperate hope that something old that never was will come back again. I'm gonna be the real thing. The primordial life, the original way of being, that's all gonna return and make life the way it was meant to be, right from the beginning. Once I've perfected the new nanites on the Titans, I'll mass produce them and seed the world with them. And eventually all the other worlds too. People will be free to live in their pathetic, meaningless little fantasies about what they _want_ life to be, and all the while I'll have their bodies walking around doing what they're _supposed_ to be doing, without any of that sentimental shit to get in the way. And even you can't fault me for it, 'cause in the end, _everyone_ gets what they want, them _and_ me. And it's the only way _they'll_ ever get it. They can be happy, and life will go on, and there won't be any more of this trying to be better than what you already are crap."

"That's a real nice plan, very dramatic and all, but it's never gonna work, because there's plenty of heroes to stop you even if the Titans are out of the picture."

"Oh? Are there? You mean, maybe, the heroes who are currently in turmoil of all forms legal, political, and several other categories yet to be named, thanks to the list of spy nanite-gathered secret identities that I gave to Darker? Yeah, she wanted it just to piss you guys off, but it serves _my_ purposes just fine too. The end of the world and the cycle back to the beginning requires chaos for the proper environmental conditions. And there's really not very many superheroes with the right mindset or powers to stop me. The Atom's going down first. Batman after that. The Question third. After that, well, we'll just see who starts struggling against the inevitable the hardest. I may not be able to wrestle the Man of Steel, and I may not be able to pull freaky shapechanging tricks, but I'm smart enough to make a machine to do anything I need it to do. And machines are a hell of a lot more reliable than friends."

"You're full of it," Cyborg muttered, unable to come up with a witty counter. Unable even to think of a reason, philosophically, why Deader was _wrong_, even if from an emotionally point of view it was all horrific beyond words.

"That's it? Your dialogue writer on lunch break? That's alright. You know," Deader said thoughtfully, one thumb running down the bridge of Cyborg's nose, "I had thought you'd put up a better fight. But that's okay. It's all meaningless, including whatever feelings result from talking to you. What is, just is. Of course, what I do still wonder about is what I'll do with myself once everything's finished. So many kinds of existence and non-existence to choose from. I'm almost scared of the prospect of a new kind of life."

And then Deader bent his head upside down to stare into Cyborg's eyes. Grinning again, lips pulled back to show teeth longer and sharper and dirtier than they should have been. The human eye glowed just as red as the computerized one.

"But then," Deader went on in a cheerful tone, moving his lips for the very first time with the words, "what's life, anyway?"

And then he disconnected Cyborg's sight and hearing, leaving only a black void and physical sensations that were as meaningless as they were terrifying.

End Part III


	16. Part IV, Chapter 1

**Well, a certain reviewer who will, cough, remain unnamed spilled the beans on the ol' climactic mixing up the povs trick I was planning on doing, so now everyone will just think I stole the idea instead of planning it out from the start! ;) Naw, I'm just kidding, it ain't no thang.I'm actually impressed that anyone managed to piece together what the narrative pattern represents. Later chapters may or may not have the pov mixing up, we'll just have to see how it fits.**

**This is one of the major climactic scenes that I've visualized right from the start. Raven/BB shippers, enjoy the fluff-o-rama.The rest of you miiiiight wanna get barf bags.**

**This could be a controversial chapter, because it delves once more into the psychology of rape victims. It's not a pretty thing, but I needed to go there.**

Part IV: Alive and Loving in Glory

Chapter 1: House of Cards

Too many tentacles, too many needles that still wanted to poke him even though he'd already been poked plenty, too many slithery creepy-crawly wormy robots all over the place. Beast Boy wished, for the first time ever, that he'd gotten Robin to teach him some martials arts, because being totally unable to fight _sucked_. He ended up hopping back on the table he'd been sleeping on and kicking frantically at anything that came close to him. Through the chaos he glared at Robin. The fearless leader was totally in his element, doing all those spinny flippy acrobatic moves and smashing things all over the place with his staff. The Russian Doll wasn't doing too bad either, though she wasn't taking them out at nearly the same rate now that she'd run out of batteries in her laser thingy. Bits and pieces of robots were flying all over the place!

And in fact one particular piece o' robot flew right into Raven and wanged her on the face, causing Beast Boy to wince at her pained groan. He barely managed to catch her by an arm and haul her up before she fell down to the baddie-covered floor from the impact. Well, at least she seemed awake now.

"You okay Raven?"

"Ngggrrrggghhh..." Raven growled, a sound somewhere between frustration, pain, and grumpiness at being woken up from a nice dream.

"I'll take that as a yes," he went on cheerfully, hoping she didn't have her head on straight enough to get mad that he was touching her. "Okay, lots to explain... robots evil, Russian Doll _good_, Starfire asleep, Cy missing. And Russian Doll good. I'm saying that twice as a reminder, okay? So don't go telekizapping her or anything!"

"I'll save the telekizapping for later," she deadpanned, steadying herself and brushing his hands off her irritably. He tried not to feel hurt by it. "What are those-gah!"

A few tentacles had snagged one of her legs. She kicked them off frantically.

"Raven, use your powers!" Robin ordered from a distance of a couple dozen feet and through twice as many robots. "Beast Boy's got nanites, and there's too many swarming from all over to take them all out easily!"

Something was wrong though. Raven looked _hesitant_. It was weird. "I... I'll try," she said, her tone changing from uncertain to deadpan.

Beast Boy watched with a hollow feeling as she went through the motions, but with her heart clearly not in it. The black energy was slower than usual, and not nearly as wide-spread as the situation warranted, and even seemed to _flicker_ a little bit, like the shadow of a bad light bulb. Some robots went down, but not enough. Not nearly.

"Raven, what's wrong?! We need more out of you than that!"

"I know, I know," she hissed, closing her eyes in fierce concentration.

Beast Boy looked from Robin to Raven, to Robin, to Raven. What was she upset about? Something she'd dreamed?

Wait, hadn't Trickster been talking crap about pretending to be her own powers when he'd... done what he'd done... to her?

Oh no, no wonder she didn't feel confident about her powers anymore...

As if to confirm his guess, Raven's next, larger attempt at violence was awful. Black energy like knives flew all over the place at random while a howling whirlwind erupted. It took out a ton of the robots in the room, but it almost took _him_ out, too! He came within an inch of getting his head cut off, ducking barely in time, and Robin had half his cape shredded.

"What's the matter with you?!" Robin snapped at her, the only time Beast Boy could ever remember seeing him actually angry with her (instead of, as usual, him or Cyborg). "Nevermind, I'll buy us some time to wake Star up!" Birdarangs were hurled. Birdarangs lodged themselves in doorways. Birdarangs beeped.

And oh, yeah, birdarangs exploded.

Even though there was a nice hole for all the sound to go up into in the ceiling, the sound _still_ hurt his ears, and he grimaced, clutching them.

The doorways were collapsed. Through the rubble, though, the sound of the robots struggling against it was pretty clear, even if they didn't seem to be making a ton of immediate progress.

Between the three of them, Raven, Robin, and Doll cleaned up the remaining robots in the room lickity-split, leaving Beast Boy feeling useless. Not like it was an strange feeling for him, though. And his evil side had made another teammate useless, too, or at least less useful, so it only increased his suckiness.

She looked so unRaveny. So tiny and ashamed. Robin wanted an explanation, of course, and she couldn't give any, except that she just wasn't so sure that her powers were safe anymore, and she was sorry for it. Listening, Beast Boy realized about halfway through it that she was starting to offer to go on a pilgrimage to some freaky self-improvement monastery after this was all over to get better at her powers. Instead of being with the Titans. Because she wasn't good enough to be with them or something like that, was the unsaid part. It was too much. It was _sickening_.

He couldn't let this go on. He'd been so, so selfish to let it go on for so long, to let her suffer like that, just because he'd been scared for his own sake. It had to stop, he had to tell her the last little thing he'd held back.

"'Scuse me, Robin? Can I borrow Raven for a sec? Real quick? It's super-mondo important." he interrupted before Robin was even able to think of a response to Raven's suggestion. He looked around frantically for some spot just a little more private, and sighed in relief as he saw that one of the walls had had a panel knocked askew, showing an almost roomy deadend between the insulation, the building support, and the ventilation system. It'd do. Not the prettiest spot, but it wasn't like it was gonna be a campfire sing-along, after all. He grabbed Raven's hand and dragged her over to it, quickly, before he had a chance to get so scared he changed his mind.

"Beast Boy, what are you-"

"You go ahead and try to wake Star, okay?" he called back to a confused-looking Robin. Robin looked funny when he didn't understand what was going on. "Me and Raven need to talk _real_ quick, it'll only take a sec. Call us if you need us, kay?"

Robin was apparently too weirded out to even know what to say, because Beast Boy managed to get himself and Raven all the way into the little interior deadend and even adjust the panel back to cover the hole more and give them extra privacy, without ever hearing a reply.

Then he looked up at Raven, took a deep breath, and tried to get ready to say the most horrible thing he would ever say.

**-----**

She could have made any number of sarcastic remarks. Could have, but didn't. She was still too humiliated from her latest screwup to act fully like herself. And whatever tattered shreds of faith she still placed in Beast Boy's presence of mind assured her that he wouldn't have dragged her into a hot, dim, dusty nook in between the walling in the middle of a mission without good reason. But mostly, she didn't say anything because she could feel the terror rolling off of him in waves.

It wasn't just _fear_, it really wasn't. It was raw, barely-controlled _terror_. A comatose empath a mile away couldn't have missed it. She'd never before felt such a thing from him in such incredible intensity, and the hand holding her own was trembling as though he was in shock. He hid it all well in his expression, though. There was still a casual, if only slightly nervous, smile on those green lips. Eyes narrowing at the sight, she wondered what was behind the jester's mask this time, and waiting for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say.

"Okay." He'd clearly just said the word to try and jumpstart his brain, and it hung in the air ominously for a moment before he went on. "Okay, there's something I've been keeping from you about my evil twin thingy. Something I should've, um, told you, but I didn't want to, because you'd think differently about me then, and it'd mess anything up, but anyway! I shouldn't have done that and I'm really sorry. It's making you doubt yourself, and you shouldn't do that, 'cause you're a great person and a great superhero and a great wizard-lady. So, I'm just gonna, gonna spill it all out and then you won't doubt yourself anymore and everything'll be hunky-dory, okay? Okay."

The words had come out in a rushed stream. He was talking fast because he barely had the courage to talk at all, and didn't want to give himself time to think. His eyes were wandering all over the place, unable to really meet her gaze while still making a pathetic attempt at a facade of a normal conversation. Midway through he'd noticed he was still holding her hand, and he'd dropped it as though it burned. And then hid his hands behind his back, as always mock-casual, in an attempt to keep her from seeing that they were shaking.

"Take your time, Beast Boy," she said in as calm a voice as she could manage, itching with suspicion. What had the little fool boy done wrong _now_? Sometimes she thought his entire life was just a series of stupid blunders that interfered with other people's lives for no cause. "Just relax and let the words come naturally. Whatever it is, I promise I won't be mad at you." Well, that was a lie. She'd be mad. She just wouldn't _show_ it. Not until he'd calmed down and they were fully out of the combat situation, anyway.

"I don't guess you'll be angry," he said quietly, leaning against a support beam, with a gaze that was roughly in her direction, but nonetheless seemed to be looking at something far, far past her. "I don't think angry's what you'll be. Other... other things, though," he went on, almost panting the words out quietly. "Before I, um, before I tell you this... I just want you to know... that I'll leave, or go to jail, if you want me to. Or, or, you know what? Yeah, I'll kill myself if you want me to. I really will. If it would make you feel better. I swear I will. You'll want me killed once you know, prolly, and I kinda wanna die right now anyway, so it all, it all works out."

She stared in utter bewilderment at her almost hyperventilating teammate, whose words came out in quick streams between breaths as though they came at great effort. What in the name of Azar would make him say such stupid things? All teenagers got angsty sometimes, but this was ridiculous!

"Come _on_, Beast Boy," she said in her best no-nonsense voice, "whatever it is can't be _that_ bad. You're being silly. You're my friend and I wouldn't want you to leave, or go to jail, and I _certainly_ wouldn't want you to die."

Maybe the brisk tone robbed the words of any comfort she'd meant them to have, because Beast Boy just closed his eyes and kept talking as though she'd never said anything. She watched in fascination as his entire _body_ started quivering, ever so slightly, and then stopped as if by a supreme effort of will, holding itself statuesque. His tone changed from the painfully awkward one it had been using up to this point, and became as blank as her best monotone, almost ritualistic. She hadn't known he had that kind of self-control in him. For the first time since back when they'd all been in Jump, near Beast Boy she felt she was in the presence of an equal and not a denser, hyperactively annoying teammate with whom she had nothing in common.

"I didn't know about this until Trickster... that's my evil guy's name, I forget if you knew that or not... was sitting around in our tower, after you'd all been kidnapped. He'd just been sitting there, just laughing about it."

As far back as _then_, he'd known, and hadn't ever told any of them?! Raven felt Rage ripple briefly before being submersed in Despair again. What was the point in anger? Beast Boy was a dolt. He'd always be a dolt. Confined to his own little Sisyphean pattern of repeating his faults and never learning. She didn't interrupt. Listening was the important thing now.

"Just sitting on the couch, laugh, right? So I tried to do a Robiny interrogation thingy. He was really happy to tell me stuff, so it wasn't hard. He was happy to tell me stuff, 'cause he knew it would be stuff I didn't want to know. So yeah, the Robin making out with not-you thing, yeah, Trickster. And he did something to Cyborg, I'm not real sure what. And then he told me... um, I should probably look at you when I say this, huh?"

There was a little jovial hysteria tinging that last sentence. His eyes locked onto hers with the kind of weary hopelessness she imagined soldiers about to be executed gave to firing squads. She opened her mouth to say something... she wasn't sure what... and then closed it again.

"Three," Beast Boy said, looking desperately solemn, "he raped you. At least," he continued on, with the air of someone finishing an awful task to the grim and bitter end, "that's what he said, and he wouldn't lie about something like that, right? There's no point, right? And I kept quiet about everything, I kept so damn quiet, because I wanted to just wipe him out and pretend it had all never happened. That's what I wanted to do. But, but it's hurting you, thinking that it's your powers that did it, that you made some kind of mistake or did some bad meditation or something and now you think you're not good with your powers anymore, but you are, you really are. You're the most awesome magicing person I've ever seen. It's just that my evil half, he pretended to be your magic, he made himself look like your black floaty stuff, to hurt you more. So you'd doubt yourself when you shouldn't." He swallowed audibly. "And, um, that's it."  
Her eyes registered him starting to tremble again as he waited for her to respond, but she honestly couldn't think of anything to say. Her brain was bleached dry in shock. In such a state of total emotion overload she felt as though she'd come back out the other side into pure emotionlessness, an almost ideal meditative state. Her powers belied that by ripping obscene patterns into the insulation and sending shreds of it spinning about through what little air they had, but neither of them cared.

She said the mantra inside her head anyway, out of instinct.

Azarath, metrion, zinthos.

Was it true? Well, why not? Beast Boy's evil side apparently had superior abilities for mimicry. That Trickster would be able to be a form of raw energy was an impressive feat, but far from unbelievable.

Azarath, metrion, zinthos.

That was what sealed it as true for her intellectually. Emotionally, though, she was still reeling. _Trickster_ had raped her? The embodiment of everything Beast Boy kept hidden behind his wall of bad jokes? Beast Boy actually had a dark side with enough depth to do anything other than play Joker-esque wicked pranks on people?!

Azarath, metrion, zinthos.

Yes, yes, it was all real, and she accepted it, because of something she remembered feeling. At Terra's remains, and during the attack being discussed. That feeling, that sickly-sweet feeling, of incredibly personal animosity so intense it couldn't stand the very existence of the target... that feeling of warmer feelings twisted into razor-sharp hate, the fresh milk gone sour. Trickster had killed Terra. Everything made sense. Poor Terra.

Azarath, metrion, zinthos.

And her powers, her powers were _fine_. All that time she'd been so worried, and so scared, and eventually had just given up on the real world because she wasn't good enough for it... her powers were fine and she could go back to trusting herself and believing in her own competence. She hadn't done anything wrong. She hadn't done anything wrong at all.

Azarath, metrion, zinthos.

She was incapable of punishing her transgressor without making things worse, though, and that realization was almost enough to let Rage really take the reins again. But no. It was not a time to be distracted. Nor a time to be shredding things due to clumsy emotions, for that matter. She stopped the telekinetic accidents with as much effort as swatting a fly out of the air.

None of it explained why Beast Boy hadn't _told_ any of them anything though... or at the very least talked to _her_... and none of it explained his melodramatic, overdone proclamation about killing himself or all the rest. Was he trying for pity points to get out of being punished? She hoped not. The very concept was gag-worthy.

"Raven?"

His voice was shaking. Crap, she'd sunk so deep into meditative practices out of habit and necessity to clear her thoughts that she'd forgotten he was still waiting for her to talk! Well, the sooner the rest of the awkwardness was over with, the better.

"Stop looking like a puppy anticipating a kick," she said with a sigh. "Yes, you _should_ have told me about this sooner, and yes, I _did_ go through a... harrowing incident... a while ago that I trust you will never mention to anyone, _ever_. But I suppose I can understand you being too scared to talk about it. This has got to be the wrongest conversation we've ever had. But no more of that woe is me, no one likes me anymore crap, okay? You're a Titan, so act like it. Now that we've got everything resolved, let's let things get back to normal and get back to Robin. He's probably wondering what in the name of Azar we're doing."

"No, stop," Beast Boy said with tired pain, gently pulling her back as she started walking out. "I won't let you just pretend everything's okay. It'll just make everybody hurt more. Look, Raven, it's _okay_ to hate me. I know that's the price I get pay for telling the truth, alright? Just don't say you don't. Don't say that things can go back to the way they were. Because I _want_ them to, I want them to so much, but I know that... they can't..."

She stared at him in bewilderment.

"Beast Boy... what the hell is wrong with you? Anyone'd think _you_ were the one who got raped, the way you're freaking out. Why would I hate you?"

His gaze was as intense as flame as he leaned close enough to kiss her, the words coming out like a quiet but fierce hiss of steam.

"_Because it was my evil side that raped you, so means that I want to rape you too!_"

His eyes stayed locked to hers momentarily, before a shudder ran through him and he sank downwards, head drooping. And she looked at him, her mind blown for the second time in the conversation, as if he were some strange, bizarre animal she'd never seen before. A creature that might do anything, anything at all.

So _that_ was the thought he had told himself while keeping his secret. So that was why... why, _everything_. He had believed that Trickster was a representation of something true about himself, and who wouldn't want to cover up something about themselves so unspeakably horrible? No wonder the fear, no wonder the terror. No wonder he was radiating misery like an almost physical wall. The painful passion of it made her own tired, self-centered pessimism seem so feeble by comparison.

Well, it _was_ feeble. And petty! All this time, all this time he'd been hiding it from her, secretly afraid of himself more than anything else, and she had never really noticed or even _tried_ to notice! She had been content to just think the worst of him whenever convenient and never try to dig any deeper. Never try to understand him. He was the joker, the kid, the lazy tofu-munching gamer, and Azar _forbid_ that he ever had depths of suffering as intricate as anything she, a half-demon, possessed. The sheer immensity of her own willful ignorance was amazing.

"Oh, sweet Azar," she murmured in horrified self-disgust, eyes wide but unseeing, as she was busy looking inward.

"You get it now, I knew you would," Beast Boy whispered, misinterpreting the exclamation. "You just had to admit it. It's horrible... the most horrible thing ever... but, but I'll take the consequences, okay? I meant what I said when I said I'd kill myself if you wanted. Swear on the souls of my parents, I meant it."

"You dumbass," she whispered, lips curling into something between a hysterical grin and a scowl. "You incredible, moronic, freakish, sweet, ignorant little dumbass..."

He stared, uncomprehending.

"Beast Boy, look at me. Look into my eyes. Don't even blink while you listen to this, understand? Trickster isn't you, and you don't want to do what he does just because he does it."

"Please, Raven... just accept it so we can get through with this, it's so much harder this way..."

"_Beast Boy!_ Do you remember when you went inside my head courtesy of one of my magical relics?"

He nodded hesistantly.

"Do you remember the red-cloaked me? My Rage? Rage would have killed you and Cyborg if it could have managed it. But that doesn't mean _I_ wanted to kill you. It just means I get angry at you sometimes. The emotion was isolated and therefore taken out of proportion and context, and became meaningless."

"That's not the same-"

"_Yes. It. Is,_" she said with a voice like rock. "Beast Boy... _Garfield_... _nothing_ that that monster does tells anyone anything about you as a person. It's not some inner truth or great revelation. It's just a tiny piece of you magnified to the point of it no longer having anything to do with you. I don't hate you. I'm not scared of you. I don't worry that you'll rape me or even fantasize about raping me. For Azar's sake, all it means is that you happened to notice I'm a woman and you're a guy. Trickster took the mild, reflexive physical attraction and turned it into something it was never meant to be and never _going_ to be. For Azar's sake, you're allowed to notice I have boobs! It's not a crime worthy of death! I don't want you to go anywhere, not to jail and not to the afterlife. You're my friend, and you clearly care about me and maybe even care a little bit _too_ much about what I think of you, and Azar, it's almost flattering to know just how much you bother to care. If anything, _you're_ the wronged party here. I've never tried to care so much about you. Not until now. And I'm cursing myself for taking you so much for granted. You're a wonderful person, a wonderful _friend_, and the team wouldn't be the same without you."

"You mean it?" he asked in a barely audible whisper, eyes wide and dewy as those of his infamous 'Face.'

"Every. Damn. Word," she said with a wry smile.

"Oh my God, I'm so stupid," he giggled hysterically, tears rolling down his cheeks as his head shook back and forth vaguely. "I'm so _dumb_! All this time I was freaking out over something and there wasn't even anything real to freak out over!"

Beast Boy collapsed into a series of half-sobs, half-laughs, hands covering his face. She could only stand it for a couple seconds before she wrapped him in a tight embrace, feeling tears of her own spill down her cheeks. She had been so selfish. So wrapped up in her own pain. She'd completely forgotten how much she really cared about them. How selfish did a person have to be, to _forget_ that she loved her friends? No wonder she had succumbed to a pit of pessimism and meaninglessness! She'd spent so much of her life caring about what made _her_ happy, what _she_ was comfortable with, what was troubling _her_. She had never bothered to really invest huge amounts of time in caring about whether or not the people _around her_ were happy. But that was going to change, she swore. That was going to change. There'd be no time to feel sorry for herself if she put a little more effort into feeling things for others.

"Listen closely, Beast Boy," she murmured in his ear gently, rocking him back and forth while he convulsed against her chest in the throes of his emotions. "Or Garfield. Whichever you think of yourself as. Because we'll probably never, ever again have a conversation so insane that it'll make me say this." He giggled a little at that, and then sniffed. He was dampening her cloak and leotard, but whatever. "I love you. I really do. And I can't speak for the others, but you'll always be part of _my_ family. Even if we don't always get along. You don't have to be afraid, okay? I won't leave you... as long as you promise not to leave me."

"I promise," he muttered through a choked throat, the words further muffled by his face still being buried against her. Strangely, she almost felt motherly, and even stranger yet, it didn't bother her.

Light suddenly invaded their stuffy little sanctuary.

"_Guys!_ I need you to... help... me..." Robin trailed to a stop, mouth hanging open as he stared at the two Titans clutching each other, weeping, and tittering a little too. They looked back at him, not knowing what they could possibly say to explain the situation. "Uh. You know what? It can wait," he finally said with the expression of a person unnerved down to his very marrow, retreating and letting the panel fall back into place.

And then Beast Boy and Raven laughed, together, for the first time. When the hilarity died down, they were something like themselves again.

"So, um... what do we tell him?" Beast Boy asked, rubbing his face.

"Don't know," Raven said, using her telekinesis to pull her deck of playing cards out of an interdimensional pocket and smoothly setting up a fullblown pyramid as a test of her control over her powers. It went off without a hitch. Every card was in perfect place down to the last centimeter, _including_ the Trickster-signed Joker cards. "Don't care." She smiled faintly and sent the cards back to their pocket. "Let's see if we can wake up Starfire."

"I'm gonna try tickling her feet," Beast Boy announced proudly with a devious fanged grin.

"Actually, you should try her _floogarmulps_. I managed to find out that that's the most ticklish spot on her body."

He perked up. "Really? Where's her _floogoo_... whatever you said at?"

"Oh, you'll see," Raven said with a devious grin of her own. "You'll see."

"Raven? I liked it when your laughter _wasn't_ all freaky and echoing. Can you please go back to laughing like that? Raven? Raven, I think it's officially called a cackle now! Stop it, you're creeping me out! _Raaaveeennnn!_"


	17. Part IV, Chapter 2

**There was one particularly nice bgm piece in the Fullmetal Alchemist anime that served as the main villain theme. It was really quite pretty... and so they decided to reuse it over and over and over again, setting the same melody to different instruments. It makes me wonder what the soundtrack would have been like if they'd been able to spread out that effort more evenly and make all the tracks equally beautiful, instead of having to recycle one of the ones of about a dozen or so that they got right. Ah well. The particular rendition of the theme that serves as the music for this chapter is 'Fukai Mori,' not to be confused with the Inuyasha ending song of the same name.**

**Edit: You know, one of my pet peeves is institutions that think they're too good for Official Manuscript Format. I was using #s as the pov switch symbol but FFnet ate them. So then I tried asterisks, the second-optimal choice, and FFnet ate _them_, too. After a few experiments I finally figured out that just plain -s will work. Sigh. Sorry for any confusion that may have resulted from pov switches without any textual warnings.**

**And while I'm complaining, is it just me, or does FFnet sometimes randomly eat spaces in the documents? Maybe it's just me.**

Chapter 2: Pure Logic

Cyborg eventually grew bored of Hell.

That was what he thought of it as, the myriad of sensations he could only guess at the true nature and purposes of, all varying degrees of nasty and painful. No way to question his tormentors, no way to even see what was going on. Scary as anything at first. But after long enough, he got somewhat used to it. People really could get used to anything.

He wasn't sure exactly how much time it had taken for him to calm down and start analyzing the situation rationally again. Enough time, that was all he knew. He wondered what his ultimate fate was. Was Fixit going to complete the old task of turning him into a full robot? Or was Deader going to just plain kill him outright? Either way, Deader's victory was assured. Unless he thought of a way to get out of this. Relying on others to rescue him would make Deader stronger, wouldn't it? At least theoretically. He'd been relying on others to rescue him from himself before, that had been part of the problem.

Some things you had to do yourself.

After all the Titans had given him... a home, a purpose, self-esteem... he owed it to them to give something back.

He had to find a path forward.

Except he didn't know how to do that, because he was completely _helpless_ except for that weird blue magic stuff he couldn't even _control_.

Wait, no.

That wasn't quite true.

He did have one method of communication left that he could think of. One path left to reach through to the enemy.

He could blink in Morse Code.

If he put up a good enough rebuttal to Deader's argument, maybe they'd turn on his senses again, and he could go from there. He knew either Fixit or Deader was still paying attention to him, unless they had robots with humanoid-shaped hands around.

But he had to figure out the holes in the argument first.

Everything Deader had said had been technically correct to some extent or other. He _had_ been trying to avoid thinking about the pointlessness of life, the hamster-in-the-wheel nature of it, by piling on sensations and focusing on the present over any vague and depressing thoughts about What It All Means.

Cyborg thought back to one of the last times recently he could remember himself learning something and being better off for it. Sarasim. He hadn't thought of her people as anything but primitives, hadn't hardly had a thought in his head about them at all beyond vague stereotypes gathered from bad caveman movies, and they'd all proved to him to be misjudging them. Especially Sarasim. He'd gotten to know her, admire her, respect her as a warrior and care for her as a woman. He had gained from that little crazy time-hopping adventure, he'd become a better person for it. He tried not to assume anymore that people were different from him just because they lived differently. He'd started looking at all the older cultures in a different light, and for a brief period of time had shared Starfire's fascination with the History Channel.

So it was all chemicals. Did that make it meaningless?

No, of course it didn't!

The very fact that he could wrap his brain around the _concept_ of there being meaning meant that there _was_ meaning. Whether it was there _inherently_ or something he had to _make_ through his experiences really didn't matter. If there was truly no meaning, no meaning at all, then he wouldn't be able to be outraged by the lack of meaning. If there had been no light in the universe, and therefore no beings with eyes, there would be no way to wonder for creatures to wonder about light, because the very idea of it would be incomprehensible to something evolved in and accustomed solely to the dark. The act of feeling there was meaning in and of itself meant there was meaning.

He had his first rebuttal.

Oh yeah, it was all startin' to come together. He could feel the old debate team instincts coming back. Grinning, he started blinking. Hopefully they'd forgive the brevity of his phrasing.

IF

LIFE

MEANINGLESS

THEN

UNABLE

TO

PERCEIVE

MEANINGLESSNESS

PERCEPTION

OF

DESIRE

FOR

EQUAL

MEANING

Whoever was handling him had a sick sense of humor. Fingers tapped the top of his head in a reply in equally proficient Morse.

SO

WHAT

Oh, that was _so_ Deader. Great, he had the supervillain's attention. Now he just had to figure out what else to say. What was wrong with turning back the clock, rewinding everything to a primeval state? What was wrong with it from a standpoint that might mean something to do, from the point of view of nature and biology and evolution? Artificially putting everyone into states of hallucinatory happiness while training their bodies into animal-like modes...

It was artificial. That was it, it was artificial, which meant that the _current_ state of life was natural. It was the way things had evolved on their own, the inevitable progress of things. Life didn't move away from happiness by nature, it moved _towards_ it! Cyborg felt a great joy at the simple realization. Evolution was all about changing and bettering yourself so that you could be happier with your environment, and religion and philosophy and romance and friends, they were all just one more step on the ladder in that process! Life wasn't some uncaring, cruel thing! Life _wanted_ to be happy, it strove steadily towards increased happiness relentlessly!

So they didn't always live as hard as they should, that was true. And he was almost grateful for Deader and the other freaky evil clones for showing him that. People didn't always live like they should, but that didn't mean there was no hope for the future. So one dinosaur gets stuck in a tar pit, does that mean the end of reptiles altogether? Does that even necessarily mean the end of the dinosaur, if it can summon the strength to escape, or someone's there to throw a rope?

No, a plateau was not the end of the journey, just a brief pause, and mistaking it for anything else was shortsighted and self-centered. So long as you were still alive, there was still hope for change and growth.

ASSIGNING

GOOD

VALUE

TO

PAST

BAD

VALUE

TO

PRESENT

ARBITRARY

HYPOCRITICAL

LIFE

EVOLVES

FORWARDS

NOT

BACKWARDS

It hadn't occurred to Cyborg that if his eyes and ears flicked on again, he might actually want them back off. It occurred to him now, though, as he suddenly saw a complicated tangle of cords streaming from the robot half of his skull, _squirming_, like living things. So that was what the ticklish sensation was. He could hear the caged nanites now too, and all the workings of the machinery, and it wasn't pleasant. Worst of all, in the distance, he could hear a buzzsaw operating. He didn't dare wonder what it was for.

"Yo, get this crap off of me, you freaky nanite-infested overlord!" He shook his head furiously, trying to dislodge the cords, but they stuck like glue.

"Please do not move so violently, or you will have to restrained," Fixit said calmly (as if Fixit had any _other_ tone of voice), stroking the cords like a mother trying to soothe agitated children. "You are to be patched momentarily. The nanites will help to remove some of your remaining coding issues."

"The only issues I have, as usual, are with people tryin' to remove my issues! What's up with _him_?" Cyborg suddenly asked, squinting over at his evil half, who appeared to be dormant and sunk even further into computer circuitry, only the mechanical parts showing any signs of life, and even then, not the mechanical eye.

"Deader has more efficient uses for his time than debate with a buggy program."

Cyborg smirked. "Yeah, right. He's just surfing the net or whatever he does in there 'cause he knows I beat him. I had answers for his questions, and he didn't have anything to counter with. In fact, intellectually speaking... since intellect is Deader's strong point... _I've already beaten him!_"

To perceive meaning was to create meaning. To speak the realization was to create its existence and truth. Cyborg felt a feeling of triumph surge inside him and all the little darknesses, the anger, the frustration, the fear and despair, all wash away. The writhing cords fell from his scalp, the caged nanites all halted, machinery all over began to shut down or display error messages as their driving force, Deader, was beaten fairly at his own game.

Deader knew something was wrong, but by the time he unplugged himself from whatever mechanical escape from reality he was in, it was too late for him to do anything about it. Cyborg felt as strong as he'd ever been. Azure-glowing scraps of himself were reconnecting, straightening, repairing themselves and winding back time to their original undamaged states, or maybe just fastforwarding it to something that would have inevitably happened anyway. And Deader, who he almost felt sorry for, started hissing and sparking as blue flames crackled up all over his body, consuming the components and reducing Deader to nothing more than the powerless husk of an emotion that he had always been in the first place.

So what if he was probably eating up years of his life with this neat little party trick? It was all for a good cause. And, as his evil side had been so very nice to point out previously, death and life were all the same thing anyway.

Cyborg stood up, stretched cautiously to make sure everything was working, and spared a glance for Fixit, who was cowering fearfully in a corner. Then he turned to face Deader. The part of himself he'd never expressed. The trouble with that sort of thing was that you had to admit an enemy _existed_ before you could _defeat_ it. Even when it lurked inside you.

"Time to go back to where you came from, buddy," he told Deader firmly.

"It's illogical! Everything is meaningless! It doesn't matter, it's a pointless process, it doesn't matter, nothing matters, nothing..." The wailing cries sounded more like the petulant whining of a spoiled child than the ranting of an intelligent villain, now.

He spared Deader the humiliation of being slowly burnt up and crushed the guy's skull. Blood and electricity, metal and bone, wiring and brain matter all mingled together on his fist, and then started losing solidity and substance, flowing up into him through every crack and seam as a fine blue mist.

When it was done, there was nothing of Deader left, and Cyborg, alone save for Fixit in a dim room with not a single working piece of electronic equipment, felt whole and really himself for the first time in ages.

"I believe this is when you say booyah," Fixit said, holding up a gun inexpertly. Just an ordinary gun, not even a fancy one or a laser. It was kind of disappointing.

"Oh yeah, it is, isn't it?" Cyborg replied conversationally, fairly certain he could deflect the bullets with a forearm without much trouble. "Booyah. So, Fixit, you don't really wanna use that, do you?"

Fixit's pale blue eyes cut through the dark like those of an angry cat. "Yes. Yes, I do."

**-----**

It had all gone wrong.

Deader's _methods_ had been stupid, overblown, melodramatic. Pure supervillainy with all its foibles and flaws. But the _concepts_ behind the plan had been genius in their simplicity, their painful, eloquent truth. Life had no meaning!

He had been enslaved, but after a time he had _wanted_ to remain that way, because it was so much easier than returning to an existence that held nothing for him. He wanted Deader back. Freedom was for beings who had pleasant choices to make with that freedom. His life was a room without a door.

"Make him come back," he demanded of Cyborg, with as much anger as he could manage to express in his voice. Which was barely any, but still, it was enough to startle the man into gawking. "Return Deader's existence. Now."

"What the... man, what's _wrong_ with you?! He's dead! I kicked his butt! All his funky little toys stopped working! Whatever he did to you should be undone!"

"It has been. But my time with Deader has been less unendurable than my time alone in this world. Watching others find love. Homes. Families. Friends. Lovers. Affection. The fact that they seem to find a meaning that I am incapable of having only makes my own life bleaker in the comparison, and I dislike the burden of living as an independent, autonomous individual. Bring him back so that I may have a purpose in my life again and no longer have to search for a light in the darkness that I cannot find."

"Fixit... was your life really that bad, after we talked before? After you had a taste of my memories, was it really so bad after that?"

"It was worse than before, because you reminded me how to experience pain. I dislike pain."

"We all do, man. We all do. Look... I'm sorry... I really am. If I'd known things had been goin' hard for you I would've been there in a heartbeat. Or, you know, an electrical pulse. Whatever."

Fixit's eyes narrowed. "That's a lie."

"No it's not," Cyborg said, and the strange gentle sorrow in the man's voice convinced Fixit that he wasn't lying. Not intentionally, anyway. "You could've rang me up any time, man, if you wanted a friend, or someone to talk tech with. Heck, I almost called you a couple times to ask for help on some of the designs for the T-Ship, but since you kept to yourself so much I figured you wouldn't be interested. I thought you were _happy_ doing whatever it was you were doing!"

Fixit stared in disbelief. Was it really as simple as that? Had he manufactured his own misery, for no reason? Could he have been happier by just making a little decision, fixed the entire program by adding one easy if-condition-statement?

Cyborg kept on persuasing. "You don't delete a whole program just 'cause you get an error in one line. You work on the line and keep the program. Heck, it could be as easy as a missed semicolon. You just... fix it, Fixit." He grinned. "Drop the gun and help my find the Titans, okay? You know it's what you really wanna do."

Other people had said things like that before. Other people had encouraged him, reassured him. Then they'd left. They'd left in droves, especially after his... changes. Whether he'd done anything wrong or not hadn't seemed to matter, it _never_ mattered, they _always_ left. Would this time be any different?

He _wanted_ it to be different. So badly. But _would_ it?

"I..."

Then he saw a great darkness swoop up from behind Cyborg like an ancient spirit of winds and thunderclouds. He fired at the thing purely out of reflex, because it looked wicked and moved with violent intent. The bullet flew through the thing harmlessly, but it caused Cyborg to turn around and hop to one side somewhat, which saved the man's life as the darkness flew into him and _through_ him, going through the torso instead of the head, shredding metal effortlessly. For a second time, Cyborg was reduced to component parts, with only his head and a few parts attached to it still functioning. Then the dark continued to flow forward, coming to _him_, and he was unable to comprehend anything but the sound of gleeful, cruel cackling before it engulfed his whole being.

**-----**

"_FIXIT!_" Cyborg cried out, but it was already too late. The poor guy was in as many parts as Cyborg himself, and probably lacked the durability of a superhero. The sound of the glass body shattering lingered in his memory like a malevolent echo given freedom and a desire to cause grief.

"Oh my... heehee... fucking God... hahahah..." Trickster muttered through maniacal giggles as he shed black like a misty cloak and formed into a more Beast Boy-esque body right before Cyborg's horrified eyes. To watch Fixit die, at a moment that should have been the beginning of newer, warm and fuzzy things was awful enough. To know that the death had been caused by the doppelganger of his lil green pal... it was _grotesque_. The little monster wheeled about, baring teeth in a Cheshire grin. "You are so fucking _stupid_!" he hollered, dancing a little jig on Fixit's remains. "You knew I was the tricky one, the shapeshifty one, and you take a time out to have a warm and fuzzy moment with your back to me? So I was on ice, big deal, I'm smart enough to get out of that! You didn't think I was, huh?! Dumbass. Okay, so I didn't think of turning into Raven's little telekiwhatshit _instantly_, so what. I still thought of it in time to take _your_ lame ass down. You were _totally_ asking for it."

"Don't get too comfy being on top of things," Cyborg growled. "Beast Boy's gonna take you down faster than a space marine surrounded by zerglings, you little imp."

"Psh, whatever, dude. By the way, thanks for killing Deader for me. Once I heard all his nutty plans I was pretty pissed off. What kinda boring world is it where everyone's _happy_?! Fuck that." His grin narrowed into something smaller, more sinister and predatory. "I wanna pull out the guts of everyone who ever looked at me funny and decorate Christmas trees with 'em. Deck the halls with dripping entrails, y'know what I mean?"

"Wow. Evil me was right. You really _are_ crazy," Cyborg said cheerfully, not caring if it was suicidal. He wouldn't be cowed by a violent psycho shrimp. "I wonder if the grass stain'll be embarrassed or proud that he has the nuttiest dark side."

"Keep on laughing at me, asshole. Just like the rest of them. I showed Terra and I'll show the rest of you too, that _I'm_ gonna be laughing last. Oh, don't worry! I'm gonna save you. Since you've got this cute little healing thingy going on, I'm gonna see how many times I can rip you apart before you die of old age from making yourself better. I wanna see if you can heal up your fleshy bits too. God, I hope so. I have so many fun things I wanna do to you for cheating at Ultimate Racers VI, and Halo, and Street Fighter..."

"Hey, I never cheated at any of those things, you little moron!"

"Remind me to cut off your tongue first when I come back from killing the other Titans," Trickster called out casually as he started walking off, turning into a gorilla to briefly smash a door out of the way.

Cyborg couldn't do anything except watch the monster leave. He'd been trying throughout the entire conversation to regenerate his body again, but somehow it wasn't working this time. Maybe because he'd lost his hold on the primal joy and triumph.

It didn't matter, anyway. He couldn't do anything to Trickster... only Beast Boy could beat that thing.

"Good luck, lil man," he murmured. "I think you'll need it."

His eyes roamed over the desolate remains of poor Fixit. He couldn't heal himself, but maybe he'd have better luck healing someone else. If Fixit wasn't dead already, which seemed probable. Still, it couldn't hurt to try, and there wasn't much else he could do.

Cyborg closed his eyes, and concentrated with all his might.

When that didn't work, he tried visualizing the process.

When _that_ didn't work, he started praying, stringing together half-remembered words from Protestant services attended long ago.

And eventually even the prayers gave way to a simple repetitive urgency, an intense longing and desire to make things right that expressed itself as a single word, over and over, as though his programming had run into an endless loop.

Please, he asked God, Satan, the universe, or any power high or low that was willing to hear him.

Please.

Please... please... please... please... please...


	18. Part IV, Chapter 3

**You know what's nice? Having more reviews than chapters. Whoo. I'm easy to please. ;)**

**The chapter title is from a bit by Shakespeare: 'Death makes no conquest of this conqueror, For now he lives in fame though not in life.'**

**One of the most repeated mistakes in fanfiction is authors forgetting that we read fanfics, not to read about original characters, but to read about the previously-created characters we already know and love. Begone, ye self-insert bishounen and Mary Sues, ye wise-cracking sidekicks and all-powerful new villains! And yet there is, in fact, a place for new characters in fanfics. You just have to slip them in deftly. Make them flawed, keep them out of the spotlight, and let them have a distinct purpose in the story for the betterment or worsement of our beloved protagonists. Well, in this chapter I finally reveal the purpose for the Russian Doll's inclusion. I would be very grateful if y'all'd let me know if it worked out okay. Was she worth it? Entertaining without overshadowing the real stars of the show? Does her part in the plot progression feel natural, rather than something just cludged in? Lemme know. This is also another one of those parts that I'd been planning from the start, so I do hope it comes out tolerably well overall.**

Chapter 3: Death Makes No Conquest

"Are those two making out in there, or what?"

"No. At least, I don't _think_ so..." Robin trailed off, staring for the nth time at the possible love nest with renewed suspicion. He was kind of a cute kid when he was being paranoid. Way cuter than when he was being all authoritative, anyway. She refused to be talked down to by someone shorter than her! "And if they _are_, I will officially give up on life. But anyway. Look, uh, you..."

"The Russian Doll," she corrected sharply.

He sighed. "Don't you have a _real_ name?"

"As far as I know I've been made of wood all my life. Can you think of a _better_ name for me?"

"Fine... Russian Doll..."

"_The_ Russian Doll." Normally she didn't insist on that part, but it was fun to prod at the starched-straight superhero. She couldn't imagine how the hyper green one got along with him on a regular basis. It had to be some sort of prolonged Cold War.

"Alright, _the_ Russian Doll," he hissed through gritted teeth. It was all she could do to not giggle. "I don't hear those things digging anymore. I didn't hear them retreat either, did you?"

"Nope. They just seemed to stop all of a sudden."

"I think they've been deactivated. But it _could_ be a trap. So, since you're apparently the least vulnerable to their attacks, I want you to try and burrow through some of that rubble around the east door, just enough to see through and make out what's going on. It shouldn't be _too_ hard, since they've been digging on the other side for a while now. Normally I'd just ask Raven to do it, but, well, you saw how she was."

"Yeah. Is she always like that?"

"Never. She's normally totally precise and in control."

"Huh. Prob'ly something to do with that weird artificial sleeping deal, if you ask me. So which way's east?"

"You don't know... ugh, here, look at my bird-compass."

She snorted with laughter. "OhmiGAWD, you have a bird-compass?!"  
"I have a bird-everything," he deadpanned. "Personalized gear, it's part of the superhero gig."

"Do you have a bird-condom?" she asked compulsively, almost in stitches over the mental image.

"...everything except that."

"Birdy has yet to leave the nest, I see," she said with a properly witchy cackle that she dearly hoped made the skin on the back of his neck crawl. She'd been practicing it for weeks. "Okay, mini-mes, time to get to work, you layabouts!"

Her two remaining smaller selves climbed out and trotted for the designated door, burying themselves arm-deep in plaster and metal with nary a complaint. She decided to play the part of hardass foreman, though, and hollered discouragement at them while making whipping gestures.

She was having fun, which meant that she shouldn't have been surprised when things suddenly took a turn for the worse. But even she couldn't have been expected to anticipate a ribbon-thin stream of red energy searing neatly through the refuse and also, incidentally, through the smaller of her two mini-mes.

"AUGH! _FUCK!_" she cursed, falling over and clutching her neck reflexively. She didn't fully share all the senses of her other dolls, but unfortunately, pain was one of the few things she did share with them. So _that_ was what it felt like to be decapitated by a laser. Fucking awful. She couldn't say she was surprised.

By the time she regained herself enough to pay attention to her surroundings again, Beast Boy and Raven were out of their hidey hole, and the hated gray-skinned porn star bitch was floating inside through the newly-excavated doorway. Rubble in her way wasn't so much deliberately crushed or pushed aside as it was totally ignored, and gave way powerlessly to the effortless movements of the freak. Oh yes, porn star lady was in top form, looking regal and smug even when wearing an expression of pure irritation.

"What is this? Deader assured me that he would keep you Titans controlled... and yet when I come to speak with him, I find his home in many bits and pieces, and all his mechanisms nonfunctional! I knew I was overly trusting in giving you to him. I suppose it is up to me to tend to you now, as no others possess reasonable competence!"

For her part, the Russian Doll was still reeling in pain and mild shock, so she was happy when the dark magic chick (what was her name again? Crow?) stepped forward to deal with things. Witty banter was for people currently meeting certain minimum requirements of comfort.

"We may not be able to really beat you without Starfire awake, but you ran from us last time, and we can make sure you're forced to run again if you're stupid enough to push us."

What was that thing about not being able to beat her without Starfire? That didn't sound good at all. Robin hadn't been able to wake up the girl for all his trying. Well, at least dark magic chick seemed more confident with her powers now. A black aura was wafting around, but it was definite and purposeful in its movements, not the wild out of control effects of before. Hopefully, it'd stay that way.

"I gave you time to contemplate your inevitable demise! You see now how this city worships and adores me? You see it, do you not?! I _deserve_ to triumph, and I _shall_!" Darker emphasized the statement by sending a red blast of energy into the remaining doll, the concussive force of the energy so intense that there was nothing but small scraps and shards of wood left afterwards.

The agony was blinding. It was beyond anything the Russian Doll had ever felt before. She couldn't help but scream, and experienced no shame for doing so. Maybe superheroes got embarrassed by showing weakness, but she was a petty crook, and when she was hurting like hell she felt nothing wrong in letting everyone else _know_ it! She wished she could black out, like a normal person, but she couldn't stop being alert and awake. There was nothing to serve as an escape mechanism from the pain, that left her quivering and curled up on the floor.

Were the superheroes calling out her name? Did they sound _worried_? They were and did. The green one was telling the dark magic chick to heal her. Not that there was anything to be healed. It was just a feeling. If feelings could be healed like regular wounds, the world'd be such a goddamn different place.

She'd withheld her usual banter longer than was customary. She couldn't help but be snarky now in response to the random violence and arrogant justifications, even if she was hurting to much to stand up, or look at the face of the person she was talking to.

"You're so full of shit."

She felt the heat of those red-glowing eyes on her. "What did you say, vermin?" The tone was mockingly polite. Playful.

"People _like_ you, so that's... that's why you should live and these cute little... superheroic freaks... should die? Are you really that _insecure..._ that all your personal worth hinges on... the opinions of a bunch of horny guys who only _like_ you... 'cause you show them your basketball-sized tits?"

During the speech she managed to get enough of her strength back to stand, if shakily, and glare at the villain who was so much more evil, and so much more _stupid_, than she'd _ever_ be. Darker's expression was one of angry disbelief. Like a bully squishing ants, only to find that one of the insignificant things had gone for a bite. Too startled to respond, and so the Russian Doll made the most of the time. She was going to get a good speech in if it _killed_ her!

"All my life, at least, if you can call walking wood alive... no one ever gave a damn about me. All I've ever done is steal shit and piss people off. I'm not even high up enough on the ladder to rate for hate, I'm like the crap you wipe off the bottom of your shoe in disgust 'cause it's a lowly thing interfering with your routine. But that doesn't have any freaking relation to whether or not something I do's good or bad, just 'cause no one fucking _likes_ me. Hell, what kind of a lame-ass moronic bimbo do you have to be to think that being _liked_ means _anything_?! All the greatest people in the world got killed by people that fucking _despised_ them! Jesus, Socrates, Lincoln! People love their pop stars 'cause pop stars are pretty and don't make them _think_ about shit, but pop stars are forgotten as soon as they get past thirty. And that's all you are. A shallow, two-dimensional cardboard piece of Hollywood trailer trash. Ooohhh, people _loooooove_ you, whooptee-fucking-"

She was so caught up in her speech, so totally happy to be hamming it up and chewing the scenery, that she forgot about that little trivial detail of self-preservation. It wasn't something one normally worried about when fighting superheroes.

She remembered, at the last second, when red energy flared up before her eyes, beautiful and terrible, like the stars in the sky seen from far, far too close up.

And then the only thing she could possibly think of, was...

Oops.

**-----**

It was the scream that woke Starfire, shearing through the thick blanket of mental isolation like a bloody axe. There were many kinds of screams, and she _knew_ that kind. It was one of pure pain, when a warrior had made a mistake and been wounded grievously in combat, too grievously to ignore. As much as she wished she hadn't heard it, as much as she wished to pretend she hadn't heard it, her battle instincts were too well-honed to allow her such sloth. And so she opened her eyes to a scene violence and chaos.

Yet, though the shapes were clear, her mind was still fragmented and uncomprehending. The wave of nausea didn't help her focus, either. So the first thing that she noticed and actually understood was the needle in her arm. She _hated_ needles! She pulled the thing out gingerly, repressing the urge to whimper, and let it drop. The revulsion for the pointy bit of metal cleared her mind and she looked again, this time actually _seeing_ what she saw.

A room, collapsed on many sides. Tables. The other Titans, all except for Cyborg, all looking ready to fight but just barely holding back. That silly wooden villain who had been cooperating with Beast Boy, down on the floor, looking pained, but also angry, in the middle of a vehement speech. And Darker, standing in front of the wooden girl, growing angrier by the moment. Starfire listened to the wooden girl's tirade with something like envy. There was a passion in it that she herself had forgotten how to have.

"...Hell, what kind of a lame-ass moronic bimbo do you have to be to think that being _liked_ means _anything_?! All the greatest people in the world got killed by people that fucking _despised_ them! Jesus, Socrates, Lincoln! People love their pop stars 'cause pop stars are pretty and don't make them _think_ about shit, but pop stars are forgotten as soon as they get past thirty. And that's all you are. A shallow, two-dimensional cardboard piece of Hollywood trailer trash. Ooohhh, people _loooooove_ you, whooptee-fucking-"

The wooden woman had gone too far, Darker was enraged. Starfire recognized this but could not think of a single thing to do against an enemy so utterly superior. The other Titans sprang forward to try and stop the inevitable attack somehow, but they never got more than a step each before the blast of energy tore the poor wooden woman apart with such force that splinters scattered themselves all about the room.

It took Starfire a much longer moment than it should have to realize that the woman was dead. That Darker had _murdered_ her. Robin, Beast Boy, and Raven all seemed equally paralyzed in helpless shock. It was Blackfire's death again, only this time, this time it had been an insignificant criminal trying to do the right thing and stand up to Darker, and, and, oh X'Hal splinters of wood were in her _hair_...

She brushed and shook them out frantically, hands trembling. Darker was floating slightly above the ground, and that simple fact was somehow infuriating and sickening.

"How _dare_ you feel joy, after what you have done!" she hissed, gaining the startled attention of the entire room. "How many more people will you slay without remorse, monster?!"

Darker grinned with her answer. "However many more get in my way, stupid girl." One hand lit up with red. "Tell your friends to step aside so that I may remove you from the existence you are so unworthy of participating in."

Starfire nodded grimly, walking out in front of her friends, both hands aglow. "Let us finish what was started. My friends, stay out of the way." It was equivalent to suicide, but it was the only course left. To kill her evil half or die in the attempt.

"But Starfire-"

"_Stay out of the way._" Though her voice was quiet, it was also ice-cold, and Robin didn't dare dispute further.

"Wonderful!" Darker said happily. "You will die now."

And that was all the warning Starfire had for the first attack, an aerial charge with a fist at the end of it that sent her careening through wall after wall till she no longer knew where she was. Her ribcage ached from the impact, but nothing was broken... Darker didn't want her to die just yet, apparently.

Even if there was no way to win, she would show Darker that Princess Koriand'r was not a warrior to be _toyed_ with! Righteous fury flooded her as never before, and she relied on that to emit an undirected aura of energy that blasted the area around her, knowing that targetting and striking Darker from range with an ordinary starbolt was less than likely.

Darker suddenly appeared an inch from her face, smoking after being struck by so much energy, but seemingly unharmed. "Oh, how very cunning of you," she cooed mockingly. "It is a pity that your tactical competence is mitigated by your utter weakness!"

Starfire anticipated the eye-starbolts just in time to duck, but there was simply no way to avoid the followup kick that smashed into her face. She was sent through another wall, and through at least two floors, perhaps more. It was difficult to keep track. The blows hurt too much, they came too fast, they threw her too far! Her nose was bleeding in a steady stream. The only questionable mercy was that whatever complex they were in was truly huge, for she had not seen the end of it even after moving so far, and it was empty. No more lives need be lost here, save her own.

Yet, when her tumble came to a halt, she had time to think, and for some reason her brain obsessed over the wooden criminal's final words. There was something important there, but it was hard to realize what, when fear and anger and excitement and a dozen other emotions were warring within her.

She was able to see Darker coming this time, flying leisurely towards her, even _yawning_.

"You have just slain a pitiable, wretched creature for no reason at all. I do not understand how you are able to feel anything of joy or righteous anger," she said lowly, trying to delay, to get time to think of some new tactic that would at least let her do damage before perishing.

Darker chuckled. "Yes, you do not understand me, and that is why you shall fall. Why should I need to feel anger on the behalf of others to slay those who annoy me? My starbolts are powered by nothing so meager, but by my ire towards all those who thwart or annoy me. And why should I require happiness to move freely through the atmosphere? You may keep your joy of flight. I fly through my scorn of the earth that I only deign to touch in my most gracious of moments!"

Joy of flight had become scorn of ground. Anger on the behalf of others had become hatred on the behalf of the self. It made sense, and Starfire felt she had gained some small understanding of her opponent, but that understanding did nothing to block the series of punches that pummelled her torso. A final one landed in her throat, and she fell down into a pool of what seemed to be sewage, gasping for air as the filth soaked her blackly and thoroughly. She spat out the water and tried to fly out, but was unable to summon enough joy to do so, and could only scramble at the edge of the pool while Darker laughed condescendingly.

This was what she was brought down to! A helpless girl caked in blood and filth, despised by the people of Earth, unable to even fly, while the enemy mocked her without fear of retribution! No wonder Robin desired Raven and not her! Tears stung her eyes as loathing of self and the world rose up within her.

Darker's laughter intensified. "Hahahah! You see how easily I have brought you down?! Everything that you wished for shall be mine, because you are not strong enough to _take_ it! You could not defeat me at Trigon's coming and you cannot defeat me now. Close your eyes when you are ready, and I will make your unglorious, despicable end swift."

And her mind latched onto the wooden villain's speech again, the words running around and around in circles.

_Hell, what kind of a lame-ass moronic bimbo do you have to be to think that being liked means anything?!_

_All the greatest people in the world got killed by people that fucking despised them!_

_Ooohhh, people loooooove you, whooptee-fucking-_

"...do," Starfire murmured hoarsely, having learned the full phrase, without the obscenity, from Cyborg some time ago.

According to _that_ one, people liked Darker, but it didn't matter.

Why didn't it matter? Wasn't being liked _everything_ that mattered?

No.

No, it wasn't, was it?

The truth lifted her spirit and her body up from the muck, and she grinned in pure joy while Darker looked confused and scornful.

Even older words yet came to her memory, words her _k'norfka_ had told her long ago.

_A deed done in the dark is no different from a deed done in the light, in its essential nature. What is right and what is wicked is not to be determined by watching eyes._ _Some of the greatest warriors Tamaran has ever known are unsung and unknown, for they did their deeds in silence and solitude, and no bards sing of their glory. But they have glory still._

"You are correct, Darker, I _have_ been a weakling, and also a fool," Starfire said frankly, shaking her head in wonder at how she could have forgotten the old lessons so completely. "But I remember well now that glory is to be gained in a deed done for caring of others. It is not given by the babblings of the masses, or even the words of those close to us! Even just now I said the person you slew was pitable and wretched, but that is not the truth of her! The truth of her is that she had great wisdom in her words, and had great courage in her heart to face you, and though no living thing besides the Titans will remember her sacrifice, or recall her as anything other than a foolish villain, it does no lessening of the value of her act! She who died in glory will be garbed in her due glory when the time of ending comes, no matter what others may say of her! And _you_, Darker, will meet your own deserved fate, though all the world may beg for it to be otherwise. You do not have glory, Darker! You have _fame_! And fame does not create a righteous cause."

A large two-handed starbolt smashed her through the architecture again, burning cloth and skin, though not enough to be fatal. But many more bolts of that power in the same area...

She had somehow come back to the first room again, with the other Titans. Robin was trying to help her up, and Raven was trying to heal her, but she pushed them away firmly, standing on her own.

"No! I will take no aid for this battle! She has lurked within me for too long. I gave her her form... now I shall take it back..." she said, her voice dropping to a passionate whisper near the end, turning around to face where she had come from.

Darker was polite, and floated towards her at a slower speed once more, laughing as much as Beast Boy when he was a hyena-dog. "And longwinded speeches do not create defenses in battle!" she said through her cackles. "Shall you have your friends help you again, little girl?"

"I am not a little girl. And I do not require their help." And it was true. She knew Darker's weakness now.

Joy and love were focused things. They were primarily directed at or a result of things of affection. But hatred and scorn were not the same. Those emotions lashed out at anything in the way, as Darker herself had said. Darker's powers were strong... but through every blow, every quick movement, every flung starbolt, that strength was wild and uncontrolled. Skidding stops, unnecessarily large explosions, blows that aimed to overwhelm through raw power instead of aiming for precise spots. There was none of the valuable focus that Raven and Robin had instilled in _her_. No discipline. Luxury, condescension, carelessness, laziness.

"Then I insist you prove it by not perishing in this next assault!"

The series of starbolts weren't too difficult to avoid, using some of the tables for cover. And she even saw the charging fist, and blocked it, though it slid down her arm and broke something in her shoulder that she desperately hoped was not important. It was only the next few blows that became impossible to do anything about, and for a time she was at the mercy of a physical force so great and swift that she was unable to feel the pain. She only felt the pain, and what terrible pain it was, when she picked herself up off the floor, shaking, blood running down her body in a dozen places, grit caking her skin on top of the previously acquired filth, and what felt like half of her hair torn out. Her entire body shook with the effort it took just to stand upright. It was the worst beating she'd ever had in her life.

But she was alive, and felt triumphant as she spotted, just behind her, a lost-looking energy weapon. It was battered and did not appear to have power left from what she could tell, but that didn't matter. The barrel was long and sturdy, and tapered to a thinner point at the end. It was just what she needed.

"Oh, what is this? My heart appears to remain functioning," she said sweetly, tauntingly, giving Darker some of her own tactics, eyes narrowed, lips smirking. "Indeed, I believe I still feel much blood pumping through my arteries!" She flexed the muscles in one arm showily, disguising how much it hurt to do so, while behind her, she gently kicked the energy weapon into a cranny in the debris, and melted the back of it firmly in place with a tiny flicker of energy from the fingertips of her free hand. "Why do you not begin the finishing of me off?" She thought for a moment for something that would be _just_ the right insult, and then she had it. "Perhaps you are afraid to stop doing the holding back, because it will then become evident that my sister had superior fighting techniques? You are embarrassed to admit this to Robin, yes?"

"_Superior?!_ _No one_ is superior to me, and I do not care what that _toluundkokrorb_ thinks!" Darker made another blindingly-quick charge, fist raised and burning with energy.

Starfire knew she wouldn't be able to really avoid the blow or block it. So she took it, let the force of it wash over her, and worked with that pressure, rolling around so that Darker continued onwards from her own momentum. It was a simple principle Robin had taught her of the Earth martial arts. Do not attempt to stand strong against the wind, for then you will only break. Instead, bend and flow as the reed and the water.

She immersed herself in the movement, pushed Darker on further still, and let things take their course.

Darker impaled herself on the barrel of the weapon, neatly through the center of the chest. Starfire was glad that the gory, awful sight didn't stay for long, but dissolved into murky red energy that flowed into her body. It didn't feel like anything. Which was reasonable enough, she guessed, since it was just part of _her_ anyway.

She looked over at her friends and smiled vaguely, taking a few shaky steps towards them. Then she stopped, flushing, suddenly very aware that she looked awful.

"Friend Raven, if you please... could I have the healing now?" she asked, falling against a table and grasping it for support. The fact that her hands were bloody made it slippery, though, and almost more effort than it was worth.

Almost.


	19. Part IV, Chapter 4

**Gee, looks like this section's gonna turn out as five chapters after all. This is the last chapter before the epilogue. Enjoy the climax. Or not, as you prefer.**

Chapter 4: Love is a Battlefield

There was something about seeing her like that that was twisted but beautiful.

Filthy, bloodied, exhausted, battered and bruised, with still lingering remnants of adrenaline-powered ferocity in her big green eyes. Clad in baggy, casual clothes torn halfway to shreds. Having just beaten an opponent through a combination of mockery and careful tactical cunning, and defeated her brutally at that. It had been the nastiest death he'd ever witnessed, although not the messiest aftermath. Terra won _that_ contest hands down.

Something about her like that was just... _fascinating_, and he didn't know whether to feel good or bad about it.

Raven mistook the reason for his stare. "Tamaranians are sturdy. Most of it's worse than it looks. But you need to sit down before you fall over," she scolded Starfire, as gruff as any more conventional and stereotypical doctor. Starfire obeyed meekly, and sat for the rest of the mystical healing procedure.

"That was clever, how you defeated Darker," he threw out, and the comment stuck around significantly in the air, like a church bell tolling at midnight.

"I was doing the improvisation. It... was satisfactory, yes?" She sounded anxious, as though suspecting he would find some reason to disapprove.

"Batman himself couldn't have done it any better."

"Except he woulda done it with a cape," Beast Boy pointed out. "Capes make everything look more... uh, bad donkey."

Robin raised an eyebrow. "Bad donkey?"

"Well, I'm not allowed to say the other word!"

"It is _good_ to be a _bad_ desert quadruped that carries burdens?" Starfire asked. She was confused. Who could blame her.

"It's things like this that stunt her linguistics," Raven put in dryly.

A familiar large metal man crashed through some of the rubble (not that difficult a feat, since by now there was more rubble than wall in the room). The noise caused Robin to tense instinctively, but he relaxed as soon as he saw the figure's outline. At least he didn't need to engage in tedious searching patterns now to find their missing team member.

"Sweet booyah of booyahs, am I glad to see you guys!"

"Likewise, Cyborg!" Robin called out with a smile, running his eyes over the metal man who seemed a little worse for wear, if nowhere near Starfire's level of dishevelment. "You look like you've been through an exciting time yourself."

"Hey, after what I've been through you should be glad I came out lookin' _this_ good! Whoa, Star, are you okay?"

"I am right as the falling liquid precipitation, friend Cyborg! I have emerged victorious against the paper of news-manipulating _shlervaag_."

"You smacked down that Darker chick? Well, alright! Look, if you're not gonna keel over without Raven tending to you for a sec... I whooped _my_ evil clone too, and Fixit needs himself a healing pronto. I'm not sure if he's gonna make it."

Robin nodded. "Raven, go with him. Save Fixit if you can."

"Right."

"Okay, this way lil lady... and oh yeah, guys, watch out for the grass-stain's evil copy! He's around here somewhere too!"

"Awesome," Beast Boy muttered sarcastically. "He's probably figuring out some perfect scheme to kick our asses right now."

"Well, whatever he's trying, we'll find a way through it, and you'll beat him down," Robin said confidently, eyeing the changeling carefully. He looked pessimistic and grumpy. Not the usual expression for their green shapeshifter when things were going their way. "I think it's pretty clear by now that most of the enemy's arsenal lies in intimidating us and making us feel inferior. In direct confrontation, Starfire beat Darker, and Cyborg beat _his_ evil self. You can do the same."

"I... I don't think I have it in me," Beast Boy confessed. "I'm good at being unpredictable, but that's really _all_ I'm good at, and Trickster's got me beat there. I don't think I have the, the discipline, or whatever, to beat him on his own terms or anyone else's."

Naturally Starfire dropped her exuberant two cents in. The alien could no more not object to such carefully-expressed pessimism than a hot fire under a pot of water could fail to boil the liquid. The layers of grime caked on her did nothing to dampen her ardour. "I do not know where this doubting of yourself came from, Beast Boy, but you must stop it! You have accomplished as many glorious deeds as any of us, have you not? Such as the vanquishing of the tofu alien-"

"-who was an even more pathetic joke than Control Freak," Beast Boy filled in.

"-and leading the Titans into battle against the Brotherhood of Evil!"

"And the Brotherhood would've killed us all if there hadn't been backup coming I didn't know about."

"-and saving Raven from Atlas when he was altered by strange chemicals!"

"After being a total jerk to her and everyone else first, 'cause I couldn't figure out the chemicals were doing crap to me. And making Robin think I'd hurt her. Yeah, that was my shining fucking hour alright."

The venomous bitterness that spilled forth in that last line caused both Robin and Starfire to spasm and stare at each other in bewilderment. It would have been downright offensive if directed at either of _them_, but Beast Boy was directing it at _himself_. Clearly this was something that had been brewing for a long time.

Well, he was the leader, wasn't he? It was his job to fix this. His job to keep the team running up to snuff, and that meant keeping morale high.

"Beast Boy, c'mon... it's not that bad," he said carefully, trying to segue into something reassuring. He wished, for not the first time, that he had better dialogue skills outside of mocking quips.

"Dude, be honest. I've got really neat powers but that's all I've really got. Take them away or outdo them and I've got nothing. I'm lazier than anyone else on the team. You've got a sixpack going on and I don't even have visible muscles! Everyone else works too hard, pushes themselves too hard, every once in a while, especially you and Cyborg, but I never do that. I don't do that because I'd rather just play games and munch snacks. I don't even clean my room. I'm a weakling in every way that counts. In every way that I could be a man I choose to be a kid. And that's why I can't beat him. Because it takes a man to stand up to something like him. And I, I just can't be that strong. He scares me. I feel like I wanna throw up just _thinking_ about him." At the end of this speech, Beast Boy angrily shrugged off an incoming hug from Starfire and walked over to a corner a little distance away, sitting down and hugging his knees.

The look on Beast Boy's face was very familiar to Robin. He'd seen that look before. On battle-hardened veterans of both regular wars and superheroic wars. In the mirror, too, sometimes. It was the dead stare of someone who just couldn't bring himself to care anymore, who would embrace defeat because it would at least mean a stop to the fighting.

It really was amazing. Every time he thought he had Beast Boy figured out, the kid would go and do something like this and say or do something no one could possibly predict. Of all the psychological profiles for all the Titans, Beast Boy's was the one that needed the most frequent updating. Why was he even thinking of Beast Boy as a kid? Hadn't he just thought to himself that this 'kid' had a stare as hardened in personal anguish and stress as his own, as a soldier's? As a warrior's, Starfire would have put it. Warrior somehow seemed a cleaner word.

Holding on to preconceived notions of people was always a mistake. Batman had taught him that it was one more flaw to ruthlessly work out of himself. Just as the body had to flow like water and be flexible to each new situation, the mind had to do the same. A mind that held onto ideas contradicted by new evidence was just as useless as a body that held in the same stance even when a blow was working its way past your defenses. Flexibility was the prime virtue, and as it pertained to mental attributes, one of the hardest virtues to attain. Batman had admitted to being far from ideal in that area himself.

What one thought of people was almost never what people really were.

He looked back and forth between Starfire and Beast Boy thoughtfully. Starfire wasn't all light, was she? No, she had dark in her too. Darker had come _from_ her, after all, but it shouldn't have taken something as blatant as that to get him to realize that Starfire could be something other than a naïve, slightly foolish, adorable alien with more strength than she knew she had. He'd wanted to put her in a little mental box, instead of taking her for who she was, surprises and all. It had felt safer that way. To view the world in black and white terms. But black and white was an inherently flawed viewpoint. The reason why Batman was Batman was because he embraced, to an extent, the existence of a gray area. An area between villainy and heroism, where people were just people.

It would have been easier to love her, to passionately love her, if he had taken her off the pedestal, but then he would have had to view the world in more complex terms. The same applied to Beast Boy. One could never care for one's teammates... one's _friends_... unless one first accepted them for who they were.

Beast Boy wasn't just a teammate.

He was a friend.

And he had to be treated as such.

Robin sat down next to Beast Boy, letting his stare drift off in the same vague way Beast Boy was doing. If it weren't the the circumstances, the scene could have been a casual talk between buddies anywhere in the world. Starfire just watched mock-casually, and the fact that her face was incredibly dirty only seemed to make her eyes more beautiful to him.

"You know, one of the first things Batman told me about the Joker was that it was impossible to really understand him," he started off, calmly. "Because you can't understand someone who doesn't even understand himself. But then, none of us really understand ourselves. So the best we can do is take the evidence into account and make predictions. We guesstimate."

"Heh, I've always liked that word. Guesstimate."

"Yeah," Robin agreed. "It _is_ a fun word. So, we guesstimate what other people will do. But we... and, um, some of us more than others, heheh... we go too far in our guesstimates, from time to time. We stick to our theories so much that they become self-perpetuating, because people tend to conform to whatever others think them to be. But even that doesn't necessarily make those theories valid."

"Gee whiz, is this a pep talk, coach??"

"Yep. Now hush, you're interrupting my train of thought." Robin smirked. "Anyway. Theories. Um, we think things about people, and those things are often wrong, and when they're right, half the time they're right for the wrong reasons. So yeah, I'll be honest with you. Half the time I think you're a careless, lazy good-for-nothing who'd get torn to bits in a New York minute if not for your crazy powers." Seeing Beast Boy's expression sink into utter dejection, he hurried on quickly to the next part, trying to repress any undue emotion that would ruin the matter-of-fact effect he was going for. "But every time I start to think that a bit too long, you go and do something I wouldn't have expected, something amazing or noble or just plain nice, and I'm reminded, again, that you're your own person and I'm an arrogant twit for trying to turn you into something two-dimensional and file you away like a profile. Okay, you're not perfect, you've got your issues... God knows we've _all_ got our issues... but you're a good superhero, and a good friend, and the only way you could ever be bad at either of those roles is if you started assuming you were bad and acted accordingly. So don't."

Beast Boy's eyes were wide with amazement. "Wow, dude, that was like... the best speech you've ever made, _ever_." His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Did you get Raven to write it for you? That good-for-nothing part sounds like her."

"Did you know that the first time I tried to grapple down from a high place, I threw up?"

Beast Boy giggled hysterically, and Starfire joined in from a distance, although _she_ at least tried to hide them behind a hand. "No way!"

"Yes way. I thought about how far down it was, and what the fall would to do me, and looked and looked, and got dizzy, and nauseous, and then, well. Let's just say I had to wash the Batmobile afterwards."

"Hahahah! Dude, that is _AWESOME_! As soon as Raven'n Cy get back I am _so_ telling them!"

Robin massaged his temples. "I'm _trying_ to have a warm and fuzzy moment here, Beast Boy. Do you have to ruin it?"

"This is you trying to be warm and fuzzy? Psh, try harder."

"Well, look, this is as warm and fuzzy as I get, so deal with it." He could tell he'd already succeeded though, in a way. Beast Boy was grinning merrily, back to his old self, doubts forgotten. "Anyway, the point of telling you that was to help you figure out that what you need to not do is _look down_. Just keep your eyes on your target and you'll be able to fly like a bird. The moment you let yourself think about gravity is the moment you surrender to it. Our thoughts make us who we are. So think good ones."

"Heh, happy thoughts, happy thoughts. Oh! Maybe I should get a bag of marbles?"

"Huh?"

"Nevermind." Beast Boy waved a hand, sighing. "Dude, you have no, like, _culture_ or anything."

Robin snorted, trying not to break into laughter. "Right. So, with our new, positive outlook, Beast Boy, let's do a little detective work. Two bad guys down, one to go. If you were Trickster, where would you be and what would you be doing?"

He locked gazes with Beast Boy long enough for the amused expression on the changeling's face to fade. But then, for some reason, it went beyond simply serious or focused, to downright alarmed.

"Oh," Beast Boy said slowly, eyes wide again. "Oh. Crap."

**-----**

Cyborg was strangely quiet as he led Raven through the corridors. The only sounds he made were his big feet clomping and kicking down doors that didn't get out of his way fast enough. Silence, while a normal characteristic for herself, was generally a bad sign for Cyborg, bespeaking of an ill temper. But he didn't _seem_ to be angry.

"Cyborg?"

"Yeah?" She revised her estimate of his mood. There was something a little dark and tense lurking underneath that one simple word. He didn't look at her.

"How far is it?"

"Oh, we're 'bout there, I think. Hmm... yeah, this is it." He opened a door for her in gentlemanly fashion, in contrast to his earlier kicks, mouth curling in a cheerful grin. "Ladies first."

"Are you sure you don't want to go first? Your screams are way more girly than mine," she joked dryly. In another fit of unCyborg-like behavior, he didn't respond with matching humor. Mystified, she shrugged and walked in.

It was a very plain room, dusty and disused, with a few dull light panels, some empty cardboard boxes, and a dead roach in one corner. It was small, so she easily discerned every detail in a glance. There were no exits save the door she'd come in by.

"Cyborg, there's nothing here."

His body blocked the doorway like a monolith, almost a silhouette against the brighter lights behind him. He was still grinning. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. _We're_ here. I just wanted to ask you something before we got down to business. After Terra croaked, did anyone cry for the bitch?"

Raven's hackles began to raise, and she started backing away ever so slightly. "How do you know about Terra dying?" she asked carefully, even though she knew the answer.

The grin refused to fade. "'Cause I killed her, duh."

And that was all the confirmation she needed. In the blink of an eye she had a telekinetic shield up and was ready for combat. "You're not Cyborg." She wasn't sure why she felt the need to say it. Like the question, it was so obvious it didn't need to be voiced, but it was like a formula that had to be followed. There was a routine to this sort of thing. A routine for dealing with evil shapeshifters who looked like your friends? Sure, why not.

"Nope. But wouldn't it be funny as hell if I was? Cyborg killed Terra! The big twist ending no one saw coming!" 'Cyborg' blurred and shrunk down into a smaller, skinnier, grayer shape. Beast Boy in monochrome. Raven beheld Trickster in his real form for the first time, and her first reaction was to smack the monster senseless with her fists, as though her occasional Beast Boy slapping instinct had been strengthened a thousandfold. The grin that was _still_ there didn't help reduce the urge any.

Her eyes narrowed, flaring white. "The last time we encountered each other you took me unawares. I won't be so easy this time."

He giggled, leaning against the doorframe as if completely at ease. "Heheheh, easy. Yeah, you _were_ easy, weren't you, bitch?" The grin finally went away as his own eyes narrowed. "I'm bored playing with you guys, though. I wanna know what your death-rattle sounds like. But _before_ that... there's something I _want_ from you..." He leaned slightly closer, expression predatory.

Flinching, Raven hovered back, shield at double strength, fists clenched and humming with restrained violent energy. She wouldn't lose control. She _wouldn't_. He wasn't going to do _anything_ to her now, she was stronger than that. She just... she just wasn't sure if she _should_ fight him, what with the inconvenient clause about the evil Titans needing to be beaten by their counterparts and all. Perhaps it would be best to just flee and go back to the others.

Trickster's expression glazed over into a kind of dreamy satisfaction, as he drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Aaahhhhhh. Yeah. That's the look." His voice was almost the husky whisper of a lover, his eyes just slits peeking out from underneath the eyelids. "That's it. That look... of total _fear_..." He grinned again, showing off teeth that seemed sharper, longer, and more numerous than they should have been. "I have to tell ya, Ravey, there's nothing in this world prettier... than looking into the face of a so-called friend, and seeing terror looking right back at you."

The emotions flowing from him with that statement, hot and cold and entirely unpleasant, almost made her gag. It was with a supreme effort that she kept herself calm and did not tremble, did not close her eyes, did not breath more heavily.

"Are you going to talk all day or what?" she snapped, hiding discomfort behind irritation.

"Ooohhh, miss lady superhero wants to _fight_? She'd rather face death and a violent lose-lose situation than have a lil chitty chat? S'okay, I can go with that. Let's tango, bitch."

His form was starting to change into something hideous indeed, something looming with tentacles (was this how other people felt when she went into demon mode on them?), and she tried, frantically, to decide whether fleeing or fighting was the wisest option.

She didn't have to decide, because a green rhinoceros crashed through the doorway and slammed into Trickster, and then kept on charging, plowing Trickster past Raven, across the room, and through the far wall.

**-----**

Rhinos didn't have very good eyesight, but they made up for it with terrific hearing. So Beast Boy was chagrined to hear Raven yelling abuse at him from the hole he'd smashed her into. He'd screwed up, as usual, and hit the wrong target!

But why was there _another_ Raven yelling at him not to believe the first Raven?

He went back to human and carefully stood an equal distance away from both glaring Ravens.

"Okay, I know how this trick goes. One of you is Trickster and one of you is the _real_ Raven. So all I have to do is ask you both something only the real Raven would know! Ravens, what were we talking about when we were hiding in the wall?"

"Trickster raping me and your silly self-loathing surrounding the event," the second Raven said immediately.

"She only knows that because she was spying as a fly or something," the first Raven suggested reasonably.

"Uh. Crap. This is gonna be harder than I thought..." Beast Boy frowned thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.

"Wait a minute," the first Raven said suddenly, sounding annoyed and very unRaveny. "You mean to tell me you already talked that shit over? Aww, man, I was gonna break it open in the middle of our climactic fight scene, with a big speech and everything, and everyone was gonna be all horrified! You totally screwed it up! Thanks a lot, assholes!"

Beast Boy glared coldly. "You don't have the greatest attention span, do you."

"Well, what'd you expect? Neither do you," Trickster said with a grin, turning back into his gray-bodied self. "And that speech was gonna be freaking awesome. Now I need to rape someone _else_ to use it, dammit. Maybe Supergirl. She's kinda hot. Or Zatanna. Or Black Canary... or hey, I could just rape Raven _again_! Just for the hell of it."

Beast Boy immediately put himself between Trickster and Raven, fingertips twitching with the desire to turn into claws and rip the enemy apart. But sometime during the conversation, Robin and Starfire had arrived, because the team leader was the one who responded to the threat.

"_Again_? You monster. Touch her and you'll die a miserable death," Robin said coldly as he'd ever said anything. He outBatmaned Batman. It was scary. Starfire backed him up, growling something in Tamaranian that sounded very, very much like an animal snarl crossed with curse words.

Raven looked she wanted to either melt into the floor or explode into demony rage, and Beast Boy felt a pang of sympathy for her. This wasn't the way for friends to find out things like this.

Trickster gasped mockingly. "Oh no! I cannot... but I must... oh, but no, I _can't_... but I just can't resist!" Despite Beast Boy's best efforts, Trickster managed to get closer to Raven by switching from grasshopper to frog to hummingbird, then back to normal. She was totally ready for battle, though, all Trickster'd done was put himself _between_ his enemies and get his back away from the wall, like a moron...

"Ooohhh, look! I'm touching her! I'm _touching_ her!" Trickster said with a sneer, poking rapidly and harmlessly at Raven with both forefingers.

Raven decided she'd had enough of that after about the fifth poke, and telekinetically slapped him into a wall. Beast Boy cheered.

Trickster sprung up in sudden rage. "Bitch! Even when you're pushing people away you don't do it with your real hands," he hissed, and something about the sentence made Raven look weirded out. He didn't understand what, though.

"Leave her out of this," he said grimly, stepping between Raven and Trickster again. "This is between you and me. You know it is." He felt like he was asking the firing squad to shoot him now. Trickster was going to rip him apart, mano-a-mano. Or _would_ he?

Robin and Raven both had faith in him... he could beat Trickster... maybe? Well, he had to _try_, anyway. Just don't look down. Don't look down. Looking into those creepy red eyes felt like looking down, so he stared at Trickster's mouth instead. That didn't help. The mouth had teeth like a carnivore's.

"Aww, is it? Really? But I was havin' so much fun making you all hate each other."

"Well, you've failed at that, so you might as well save yourself any more humiliation and surrender," Robin put in. "Everything you've put us through's only made the Titans stronger. Just like with everything we've ever gone through."

"Ya think so, huh?"

"I've had enough of you screwing with people! If you want to hurt them anymore, you're gonna have to hurt me _first_!" Beast Boy yelled, stepping closer, fists balled, getting into a rough boxer's stance just because it seemed like the right thing to do.

Trickster's voice, coming like velvet through smiling lips, was almost a purr. "Sure, why not? After all... I hate you too."

"Fine. There's just one thing I want from you before I kick your tail."

"Why should I do anything that _you_ want?"

"'Cause if you're right about everything, you don't need to do anything but beat me fair and square. Right? If I'm so weak, and you're so much better than me, then you can beat me on your own without any dirty tricks, piece of cake."

"Yeah, so what's your point?"

"I want you to leave the rest of them out of this. Just you and me. That's it. I don't want you trying to hurt them with your words anymore, and I don't want you to use them as hostages or any lame crap like that. Just you and me, and screw everything else."

Trickster looked almost friendly. "Sure. I'll do that." His eyes shifted over to the other Titans. "If they do the same."

"Whadda ya mean?"

"I mean, if you can't beat me on your own, you don't _deserve_ to win. So I don't want your lameass teammates helping you. And that includes morale-boosting bullshit, too. If I can't talk to _them_, they can't talk to _you_. Do we have an accord?" The last sentence was sneeringly sarcastic in its politeness.

"Read it in one of Raven's books," Beast Boy muttered, knowing the others would wonder where that last phrase had come from.

"Well?" Trickster demanded impatiently, staring at Robin. It was the leader's call. "Do we have. A fucking. Accord."

Robin looked over at Beast Boy. It wasn't hard to tell that his leader was wondering if he was up for the challenge. Wondering it without trying to look like he was wondering it. Beast Boy nodded just a little.

Do it.

He could do this.

He'd win, or die trying.

Robin's eyes narrowed. "Alright. Titans, stand down. This is Beast Boy's fight. We won't interfere."

"What, you're not gonna shake on it?"

Robin glared at the open hand as though it were a slimy, hideous thing. "My word's all you're going to get, scum. Take it or leave it."

Trickster smirked. "Taken. LET'S RUMBLE, YOU PUSSY!" he shrieked with bloodthirsty glee, turning into a tiger and pouncing towards Beast Boy, jaws open and claws extended.

He'd been expecting a 'surprise' attack like that to start things off, though. It was just what _he_ would have done... if he were a total psycho. So by the time the tiger arrived, Beast Boy was a wall of flesh in elephant form, ignoring the puny stabs of claw and fang and smashing the tiger aside easily.

After all the buildup, he couldn't help but jeer a little. "Oohhh, not a good start for the bad guy, maybe he should've brought a death laser!"

Trickster rose back up as Slade, complete with metal staff. "That's so like you, to get lucky in the first lap and think you've won the race. Be more aggressive, I wanna see if you can at least get me out of breath before I kill you in front of your pals."

Beast Boy was not, contrary to popular opinion, stupid. Charging was just what Trickster wanted. So instead, he turned into a spitting cobra and hocked a wad of venom into Trickster's eyes. Trickster screamed an obscenity and half-collapsed clutching his face. And then started... _laughing_?

"Hahahah... oh my God... hahahahah... that was fucking _awesome_. Hahahahaaaahhhh... oh yeah, I'm gonna make you scream _so much_ before this is over."

"You talk too much," Beast Boy stated, and then turned into a bull to ram and gouge. Trickster vaulted over him and to the side with the help of the staff, and then turned into Cyborg, landing a few punches on his side that hurt like fire. Oh yeah, that was gonna bruise bad.

"Hey, it's my job to spill out every word you've held back. Looking a bit winded there, _grass stain_, you wanna call a timeout for milk and cookies?"

Beast Boy's reply was to turn into a frog, hop on Trickster's head, and then wrap himself around the neck as an electric eel. He'd never relished the smell of fried circuits so much.

"How'd you like the _shock therapy_?" He grinned and kicked his dazed, now non-Cyborg-looking clone down to the floor.

"Not as good as Raven's cunt," Trickster muttered, and Beast Boy's outraged shock over the statement gave him an opening.

Trickster's teeth sank into him ferociously, turning into those of an animal after already piercing the skin, and then with a quick shake, Beast Boy was flung halfway across the room, landing on his head. Hearing Trickster laughing as he approached for another attack? Definitely the last straw.

He went to hippopotamus and tried to stop Trickster's laughter by chomping on a leg and holding it, swinging the body around like a ragdoll. But freakishly, Trickster just _kept on laughing_.

"Havin' fun yet?!" Trickster called out between laughs, turning into Mento. Licking the blood from his lips. "You taste like chicken, Garfield!" And then Robin. "Gross, you slammed me into the _dead rat_, dude, that's not fucking cool!" And Starfire. "That's right! Get it aaaaall out!" Terra.

Frustrated, Beast Boy flung Trickster into a wall and turned back into normal, panting, trying to think of a good strategy. For avoiding direct fighting so much, Trickster didn't seem to be bothered by pain. It just made him... _hyper_. Totally creepy. 'Terra' stood unsteadily, swaying and grinning, a trickle of blood running down 'her' face from the top of the skull.

"So, with all the big secret sharing crap going on, did Raven tell ya I killed _this_ bitch?" Trickster asked conversationally.

Beast Boy stared. "You... you _killed_..."

"Terra," 'Terra' said with sickening happiness, beaming proudly. "So they _didn't_ tell you? Guess they just didn't trust you enough. Not that I can blame them, they just knew you'd freak out... if they told you how she died... oh, there was screaming, and blood, and crying, and lots and lots of pain. I did her nice and slow, and didn't leave much behind after-AUGH!"

No one talked with a rhino horn in their shoulder.

"You _need_... to _learn_... how to _shut_... your fucking _mouth_!" Beast Boy snarled, back in normal form, punctuating every few words with a punch to Trickster's face. It wasn't the best strategy, but it was satisfying, and he really, _really_ wanted to just _pound_ the little asshole for a change.

The face of Terra changed into that of his mother, bruised and bloodied from the punches. "Ooh, someone's got _issues_. It feels _good_ to hurt people that hurt you, doesn't it? Momma'd be so proud."

"Don't you _DARE_ look at me with her face!" Beast Boy screamed, turning into a gorrila and slamming both fists down onto Trickster's torso as if the action would erase the monster from existence. It was too much. Too much. The bastard held _nothing_ sacred, _nothing_, and no one could blame him for getting angry over it! He was dimly aware of the other Titans looking worried, fidgeting, wanting to interfere, but this wasn't their fight, and whatever he did, well, it was _done_, and that was that.

"How about this one, then?" the face of his father whispered hoarsely. "Or do you not like thinking about the past, because it reminds you of what you really are... a helpless, scared little boy... all alone..."

With the closest approximation an ape could manage to a scream, Beast Boy hurled Trickster across the room once more. 'Terra' came back up again. There was almost more blood than skin on the face.

"She didn't even try to defend herself, y'know," Trickster went on conversationally. "And I gave her _plenty_ of time, oh boy, did I ever give her time! Heheh. Carved up, sliced up, bashed and punched up, so slow. She begged, she screamed for help, she prayed to a God she didn't really believe in, but she never used her powers. You know what _I_ think?"

"I don't _care_ what you think!" he snarled, going velociraptor and closing in to snap at Trickster's face. Trickster danced aside clumsily but quickly, like a puppet on strings.

"I think that, deep down, she wanted to die. And that's why she didn't let herself remember her mud and dirt powers. She _could've_, but she _didn't_, because she didn't really _want_ to live. 'Cause deep down in her heart, she knew she _deserved_ to die."

It was almost funny, to see how hard Robin and Raven were trying to keep themselves from saying anything. He could see the strain in their jaws. But even if they said something, what could anyone say to prove Trickster wrong? The kind of crap Trickster said, it was stuff that _couldn't_ be proven wrong. Or right. It just stuck with you like a bad aftertaste.

He tried the spitting cobra again, but got outwitted when Trickster went mongoose. _That_ made for a scary few moments, before he morphed into a germ, with some vague idea of trying the same thing he had on Slade. But Trickster was ready for that too, and turned into something else, an antibody or whatever the things were, that would eat the germs up. The dance of constantly changing microscopic, one-celled organisms went on for a while, and Beast Boy could only imagine how confused the other Titans had to be, but then he and Trickster both got tired of it and went back to normal.

Trickster's gloved fist smacked him square on the throat and he stumbled back, gasping and choking. The villain's laughter punctuated the pain.

"Hahahah! Nice one, dude! Come on, is that all you got? I'm still twitchin'. You're the _hero_ for this bit, right? Haven't you learned some cutesy warm and fuzzy lesson to beat me? Huh? Huh? Where's the moral of the fuckin' story? Where's the happy ending, _hero_? What've you learned, how've you grown, why are you a better person for having fought with me, huh huh huh? Or maybe, maybe, you haven't learned a goddamn thing, 'cause there's nothin' to learn. 'Cept pain." He grinned like a Cheshire cat.

Beast Boy stumbled to his feet, wiped the sweat from his eyes, and wondered if it would be superheroic of him to turn into a big predator and just eat Trickster's freaking _tongue_.

"I'm... I'm not giving up..." he said defiantly, stumbling a little. When had his right leg gotten hurt? He must have twisted it the wrong way or something during one of his tumbles or attacks.

"Of course you're not! Not till I cut your legs off, anyway!"

"You are _way_ too freaking cheerful for someone covered in blood!"

"Hey, you're not looking too hot yourself. And I don't _need_ a body to kick your ass."

And Trickster proved it, by turning into black energy a la Raven, a curtain of black with glowing red eyes and jagged claws like shards of broken glass. Beast Boy couldn't think of anything to turn into to avoid _that_, and got slashed up, smashed into the floor and walls, and partially-suffocated while struggling helplessly before Trickster got tired of playing, and just plain ripped off one of his arms.

It actually took him a really long moment to figure out what had happened. There was a lot of blood, and pain, and his arm was on the floor for some reason... why was it on the floor? And why were the other Titans screaming so loud? And then his eyes went to the end of the arm and realized it wasn't attached to anything. And he looked at his shoulder, and saw what was missing, and that was when the pain really hit full force, strengthened by the horror of realization.

Beast Boy screamed with them, and Trickster just laughed.

He couldn't think. He couldn't move. Well, he _was_ moving, sort of, rocking back and forth, but that didn't really count. It just hurt too much. The other Titans were closing in now, and Trickster was back to normal, standing between them and him.

"Go on, help him. Oh, God, _PLEASE_ help him!" Trickster said gleefully, back to normal again. "Break the rules that we agreed on before this rigged fight started, please! It'll be like the last time you cheated, only _BETTER_. You think I'm badass _NOW_? I'll be a fucking max level demonhunter surrounded by peons with another powerup. Hah! Cheat again, you losers! You know what, you don't even have to _DO_ anything! JUST _SAY_ SOMETHING! EVEN A _WORD_! JUST! ONE! FUCKING! WORD! HAHAHAHAH!" The gloating had turned into near-hysterical screams as Trickster just... _capered_, like some mad, rabies-infected thing, almost foaming at the mouth, barely stalling the Titans by sheer intensity of emotion.

He'd failed? No. It wasn't over till he was dead. And he wasn't dead yet. He couldn't let them down! He had to... he had to... what was it he had to do again? Oh yeah. Get up and fight. Beat Trickster. He tried to get to his feet, stumbled, fell, and tried again. Realizing that it could take a while, he started talking as loud as he could (which, as it turned out, wasn't very loud) to stop the others from doing something stupid.

"Guys, don't freak out or anything... I mean, Cy, Cy's lived through stuff like this, right? I'll be, I'll be... fine. I won't let you down. Just give me a second to catch my breath, I swear I won't let you down..."

With an intense effort fueled by strength he didn't know he still had, he managed to turn into the Beast, and sprang on Trickster, clawing and biting wildly. Trickster turned into a Beast too, but Trickster still had both arms. Beast Boy could only fight against the odds for a few seconds before Trickster overpowered him and pinned him against a wall. The shock made him revert to his usual body, and Trickster for some reason did the same. Except... except, instead of the regular gray skin and red eyes thing, he looked _normal_.

Normal, like everyone else. Pink-white skin. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. No fur. No pointy ears. No fang.

Trickster looked like _him_, as he would have looked like, without sakutia and sakutia's freaky cure. Without the beast mixed in with the boy.

This was the second time he'd felt the warmth of Trickster's body and been sickened by it. He was feeling dizzy, too, and thirsty, and didn't know why. He couldn't even tell what the others were doing now.

"You never answered my questions." Trickster's voice, his face, they were both weirdly soft. "So, what've you learned?"

"My friends... th-they... they love me... they b-believe in me..." Beast Boy murmured, dazed. Why was he trembling? He didn't know that, either.

"Nothing you didn't know before. And it doesn't really answer anything or change anything. Does it? I'm still smarter, stronger, better."

"Y-you're not that special," Beast Boy rallied up some bit of defiance, even as he saw the blood speckling his lips. He couldn't bring himself to care. He was feeling warm, now. Almost comfortable. Except for the dizziness, but that wasn't so bad, if he didn't try to focus his eyes on anything. "Not that smart. Coulda done b-better than... than you."

"Yeah? How's that?" Trickster licked a little blood off of Beast Boy's chin.

"Heh... woulda... w-woulda turned into Trigon... if I were you... and kicked ass... so hard... you lamer..."

Trickster's eyes widened, in shock, and then delight. "Oh. Oh, oh _YES_! THAT IS FUCKING _IT_, BABY! IT'S THE PERFECT FUCKING ENDING!"

Trickster cackled and dropped him, and he couldn't do anything but lay there. It was getting really hard to see. But even he could see what happened next.

Trickster got red. And large. Very large. Larger, and larger _still_. The ceiling broke, and then everything else around, and it was so loud, and he was falling, but Raven caught him with her magic, and he couldn't care, couldn't object, couldn't fight, couldn't do anything but watch. Trigon rose above everything, destroyed the room and everything else nearby, and opened the room to the sky. That was all his eyes could clearly make out, the blue, blue sky, and a red, red Trigon.

There was a lot of noise, but it was so chaotic and he couldn't make sense of any of it. Except for Trickster's words, now in Trigon's huge, booming voice.

**"YOU WERE WORTH SOMETHING AFTER ALL, WEREN'T YOU? THIS IS HOW IT'LL ALL END, HOW I'LL KILL EVERYTHING, AND WHY NOT? THE WEAKLING BECOMES THE DEMON, THE BIG BAD EVERYONE'S AFRAID OF, THE ONLY VILLAIN SCARIER THAN SLADE! THANKS FOR THE IDEA!"**

Crap. How could he have been so _stupid_, to tell Trickster what to do? He wasn't thinking right. It was so _hard_ to think. What was he supposed to be doing now? He didn't know. He didn't know. He was always so, so _stupid_.

**"LET'S HEAT THINGS UP WITH A FEW OF THOSE CUTE FLAMEY GUYS, HUH? I'LL SEND THEM OUT TO BURN EVERYTHING TO ASH!"**

Flamey guys. Monsters made of fire. A great crack split the earth at Trickster's feet and they spewed forth from it, scampering up Trickster's new body like ants over picnic food, hissing and crackling and roaring. But they didn't seem obedient. The masses of hissing whispers from them, that cut through all the other sounds, were pretty hostile, actually.

_"Pretender..."_

_"Imposssster..."_

_"Arrogant mortal..."_

_"You will be punissshheedddd..."_

**"WHAT?! DO WHAT I TELL YOU TO! I HAVE ALL THE POWERS OF TRIGON THE FUCKING TERRIBLE, YOU STUPID LITTLE ASSHOLES! DO WHAT I SAY OR I'LL MAKE YOU BEG FOR A NICE QUICK DEATH!"**

_"Not our massterrr..."_

_"Faker..."_

_"Petty thief of the great one'sss visssaaagggeee..."_

They were dragging him down. Down through the crack he'd created to summon them. A thousand little bodies somehow managing to tug down one great huge one.

**"LET GO OF ME! YOU CAN'T HURT ME! I'LL DROWN YOU ALL IN THE BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN, YOU LITTLE BASTARDS!"**

Still they tugged him down, relentlessly. His form shrank, and shifted, and changed, and Trickster became a dinosaur, a dragon, black energy, a dozen different supheroes and supervillains, the xenomorph from the Ripley movies, and everything else with strength or stamina or speed. Not a single form, great or small, let him get free from their grip.

"Help me!" he finally screamed at Beast Boy, in his regular body. Nothing but the red eyes were left visible, the flames were packed on too tight. His voice was harsh and raw with pain and desperate terror. "HELP ME GODDAMMIT! I'M YOU! I'M _YOU_, ASSHOLE! YOU'LL NEVER GET TO BEAT ME IF THEY DRAG ME DOWN THERE! PLEASE, GOD, HELP ME!"

"Get... get back inside me..." Beast Boy whispered. "It's... s'only... way..."

Somehow, Trickster heard. Trickster hesitated. In those eyes, Beast Boy could see the doubt. The uncertainty. The willingness, maybe, to surrender.

For just a moment, Trickster looked like the weak, scared little boy he'd accused Beast Boy of being.

And then the moment passed, and Trickster was a screaming thing again, but screaming with anger and hatred, filled with fury and spite.

"GIVE IN TO YOU?! AND GO BACK TO BEING THE FUCKING WEAKLING, THE JOKE EVERYONE LAUGHS AT?! FUCK YOU! THE ONLY TIME THEY EVER STOP LAUGHING IS WHEN THEY'RE SCARED! I WON'T GIVE IT UP! I WON'T! I WON'T GO BACK TO BEING THAT AGAIN! I'D RATHER GO TO HELL THAN SPEND ONE MORE SECOND AROUND THEM! CYBORG YELLING AT ME, AND ROBIN ACTING SO HIGH AND FUCKING MIGHTY, AND STARFIRE PRETENDING TO BE SO CUTESY SO SHE CAN GET INTO ROBIN'S PANTS, AND RAVEN... ICE QUEEN BITCH, I'LL SAY HI TO YOUR DADDY FOR YOU! I'D RATHER GO TO HELL THAN TAKE ONE MORE OF YOUR SLAPS OR FUCKING CONDESCENDING STARES! YOU HEAR THAT?! YOU HEAR THAT, YOU BITCH?! I'D RATHER GO TO _HELL_!"

And that was the last thing Trickster said, before the fire-monsters finished dragging him down, and the crack in the earth closed up roughly behind them, a mouth that had been well-fed.

Beast Boy tried to ask if everyone was alright, and to apologize for giving Trickster the Trigon idea, and to ask if he could have a drink of water, but his awareness of everything seemed to close up along with the hole in the earth.

The last thing he was able to notice was Raven screaming at him. She sounded scared? Why did she sound so scared? He felt alright. He felt... warm.

"GARFIELD LOGAN, IF YOU DIE I WILL DRAG YOUR SPIRIT UP FROM THE GRAVE AND REANIMATE YOUR CORPSE JUST SO I CAN KICK YOUR ASS!"

He wondered where she'd learned his last name. He didn't remember telling her.

And then, his world became darkness and silence.


	20. Epilogue

**And we come at last to the conclusion. I hope everyone enjoyed the ride, and I hope y'all all find this a satisfying ending. I'd like to particularly thank my reviewers for taking the time to express themselves. And especially, I'd like to give big, big thanks to Witchgirl, who busied herself reviewing in enjoyable verbosity before almost anyone else bothered to, and El Queso de Malicioso, who came in a little later but has been a dutiful commentator ever since his arrival. Without you guys, this fic would've probably come out a LOT slower. ;) So yeah, you made a difference, and thanks for it.**

**For those of you who're interested (that's right, all ten of you!), I've got a few spinoff and sequely story ideas I'll be penning soon, so feel free to keep half an eye out if you still want more fresh reading material after this.**

Epilogue: House of Cards II

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Dude, whoever's doing that, will you please stop?" Beast Boy murmured drowsily, words a little slurred. He didn't feel like opening his eyes yet. He was halfway propped up, somewhere comfortable, soft and warm. He wasn't hurting. He didn't feel the need to look around yet. He just wanted to go back to sleep.

"You're awake." Robin's voice was quiet, but filled with that special kind of tenseness that told Beast Boy his leader was in Super Repression Mode, a mode Robin went into almost as much as a certain purple-haired empath. "How are you feeling?"

Mentally sighing, Beast Boy resigned himself to not immediately drifting back into sleepy land, and pulled his eyelids up to peek around. He was in the T-Ship, in Robin's pod, which had been enlarged a bit somehow and been given a nice comfy miniature-matress thingy for him, and a blanket, and a pillow. They were flying... somewhere. Not like he could tell where just by looking at clouds.

Robin had the thing on autopilot, apparently, because he wasn't steering or even looking at the computers. He was looking at _him_. Beast Boy got the mildly creepy idea that Robin had been staring like that for a long time.

Oh well.

Beast Boy yawned. "M'okay... tired... where're we goin'?"

"We're going back home. Back to Jump."

"Sweet. Did everything get fixed in Metro then?"

"Well, things are... complicated. I'll explain later, okay? Right now you should just focus on resting. Are you thirsty?"

It wasn't until Robin asked that he realized he _was_. "Oh dude, _yes_. I have the worst cotton mouth too."

Robin produced a can of fruit juice from a compartment, flipping the tab and holding it out carefully and very loosely.

"I can hold it myself y'know," Beast Boy grumbled, reaching for it.

"Alright. You need to drink a lot, though... your body's lost a lot of fluid, and you need to replenish it as much as you can. Raven did her best, but replenishing blood with magic's supposed to be tricky... especially when it's... um, unusual blood, like yours."

"Heh, right. Hope she didn't work too hard patching me up."

He slurped the can away in small sips, contented. Then he felt a sudden stab of alarm as he remembered he still didn't know what the heck had happened to his best bud Cy.

"Dude, Cy's okay, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, he's fine. He beat his evil half after all. A bit banged up, but nothing we can't fix once we get home."

"Sweet. Hey, why're you looking at me weird? Looks like your eyes are all twisted up behind that mask or something." It really did. One day he was just going to lean over and _RIP_ that stupid mask off. Which birdboy probably kept on with glue, so it'd hurt, and it'd serve him right for wearing the dumb thing all the time. Nyah.

"Beast Boy... I'm sorry, but Raven can't heal your arm. Even if we had it with us... it fell into that hole with Trickster..."

"Oh. Oh, dude, I suck. I'm sorry, I probably scared the crap outta you, didn't I." He grinned sheepishly. "Is crap a curse word? I don't think it is. Anyway. I can fix that. I'm just glad it doesn't hurt anymore, that thing hurt like a mofo. Hey, is mofo a curse word? Okay, yeah, anyway, I can fix it up. Spend enough naps as a starfish and it'll grow all the way back. Figured it out one time when I scrapped off a toenail as a kid. Pretty neat, huh?"

Robin looked totally floored. Almost ready to hyperventilate. It was super funny, but also super guilt-making.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, I probably shoulda, huh... I just didn't think I'd ever lose an arm or anything, y'know? Dude, Robin? Dude? Y'okay?"

The boy wonder engulfed him in a Starfire-strength hug. The immediate fiery pain was, not on his ribs for a change, but just below one of his shoulders.

"Ack! Dude! Still lost an arm here, still hurts, watch it!"

Robin practically teleported away, he moved so fast. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry Beast Boy! It's just... oh my God, I thought you were going to be crippled for life. I was talking with Cyborg about fixing up some kind of mechanical arm for you, but then we didn't know how well it would go with your powers, and, and, and, oh THANK _GOD_ you can grow it back!"

He giggled. "Dude. You sound like a chick, cut it out. We're the Titans, we bounce back from everything, like, boingy boingy. We're Slinkees." He yawned again. "Nnph. Still tired. Can I have another nap? I'll even do it all starfishy. The sooner I can clap my hands again, the better."

"Yeah. Yeah, you do that Beast Boy. Get all the rest you need. I'm going to switch over to Cy's pod for a bit, but if you need me, just push that button on the side there, okay?"

"Sure thing, nurse Robin." He smirked and snuggled deeper down in his little bed. They were going home. The bad guys had been squishified, or at least gone away. Everything was gonna be fine.

-----

It was a little awkward talking to a Cyborg that was mostly just a head and neck (not counting the random scavenged parts of him that were currently living in a box), but not nearly as awkward as it would have been talking to a Raven still exhausted and grumpy from the most intensive healing effort of her life, and he just plain didn't feel up to dealing with Starfire's... passion... right now, even if he adored her for her enthusiasm most of the time. Besides, Cyborg and Beast Boy were especially close. Cyborg deserved to know first.

"...and then I let him go back to sleep and came over here, so I wouldn't disturb him talking through the comm system."

Cyborg was grinning broadly. "I toldja not to count our little spud down and out, didn't I?"

Robin smiled wryly. "Yeah. Yeah, you did. I need to have more faith in him. But you should have seen him, he was so cheerful, so _normal_. He acted like it was just one more tough fight! I... I don't think he knows how close he came to dying there. If Raven hadn't been right there, and used every last ounce of her powers to keep him going, we would have lost him. We would have _lost_ him."

"But we didn't, and thank sweet baby Jesus for that."

"But we came so close. I'll never forget that moment... after he lost his arm... and he still tried to keep going. Saying he wasn't going to let us down. It was the worst thing I've ever seen, Cyborg." Robin let his head drop, holding it in his hands. It was about the closest he allowed himself to crying. "I've seen a lot of awful things, but that was the worst. And it was all my fault. I agreed to the stupid terms. I didn't interfere, I _should_ have interfered, sooner, _much_ sooner. Or at least called a retreat! Never engage the enemy on his own terms, that's one of the first rules of crimefighting. Batman would be ashamed of me."

"Man, stop the pity trip, your angst is way cooler when you deal with it by being a paranoid workaholic. I'd put a hand on your shoulder but right now I seem to lack hands, so just pretend I did it. No one knew Trickster was that good. He was _tricky_, hard to scope out. And BB _still_ beat 'im!"

Robin raised his head. "You think?" His voice was faintly skeptical.

"Well, yeah. The little kid sent Trickster to _Hell_. I dunno how it is where _you_ hail from, but Grandma Cyborg would call that a right proper whuppin'."

"Hmm. It was a stalemate at best. A costly stalemate. I can't let things get that close ever again. It's funny... you know?" He started to ramble, knowing he was rambling. An unaccustomed luxury. It felt oddly good. "I never really expected to lose any of you in the field. Never. I mean, I _planned_ for it, I had contingencies in place, but that's not the same thing. I never really felt, deep down, that this time, this time there might only be four of us coming back to the tower, and the fifth one would just have a grave. Not even when Raven gave herself up to the prophecy and the whole world seemed to end. Not until I saw Beast Boy mutilated like that, and saw him trying to keep on going on even though he couldn't possibly win. I was... I was so _scared _I was going to lose him, Cy..." The last sentence came out as barely more than a whisper, a shameful secret that it hurt to admit, wonder at his own pain coloring his tone.

"I think maybe you should tell him that," Cyborg said back almost equally quietly. "I think it'd mean a lot to him, coming from you. He looks up to you more than anyone 'cept maybe Raven and that old Mento guy, y'know."

"You've got to be kidding."

"No, really. You two don't have much in common, but in a way that's _why_ he respects you and trusts you as a leader. Because he knows you'll always push yourself hard... maybe a little _too_ hard... and always try to do your best... and maybe a little more. It's not that he can't do the same if he tries, but it comes to you more natural like. You've got a lotta hard edges, but that's why the times when you're soft mean more. Like the briefcase racing derby thing. Boy, we all talked about that for _weeks_."

"Argh, I remember..."

"I mean, seriously, of all the things to keep in a briefcase!"

"Alright, fine, you made your point!"

"Heheheh. You're too easy, man. Oh, by the way... do you mind if I lockdown the third ancillary computer from the main system for a while after we get back?"

Robin blinked. "Uh, no, go right ahead. Why?"

There was a strange smirk on Cyborg's lips. "I've got a passenger to unload."

"Huh?"

"Heh, never you mind, man."

"You're not going to try to hide more pink hair fetish adult material in the Titan computers, are you? Because I remember telling you that I don't want that kind of trash on there where everyone can see it."

"For the _last_ time, man, I _told_ you, Kid Flash did that to me as a prank!"

"Riiiiight."

After some more traditional male teasing 'arguments,' he felt ready to talk to Starfire.

-----

It was truly a strange new world, where Cyborg was _relieved_ to be holding conversations with a robotic-sounding voice in his head.

True, he wished he'd been able to save Fixit any other way. He wished he'd had more control over his weird mystical life energy powers. He wished that Fixit could have retained what was left of his physical humanity. But strangely, in losing almost everything that literally defined him as human, Fixit became more human than ever in _personality_.

_Metal or flesh, programming or neurons, I do not think the raw materials make much difference,_ Fixit had said at one point. _The end result is what matters._

The end result.

What was Fixit to do with himself, now that he was reduced to lines of code? Even if ridiculously complicated and verbose lines of code that gave Cyborg a headache when he tried to make sense of it all. Magic and technology apparently weren't _that_ far apart.

Cyborg wondered how many needless headaches he'd given himself by simply insisting on categorizing things too strongly. Life wasn't a series of boxes, it was a rainbow that shifted gently from one shade to another.

They'd discussed Fixit's future at length during the trip back to Jump. There were any number of businesses and services that would benefit from an advanced 'artificial' intelligence with human-level reasoning abilities, but in the end, they'd both decided it was best to keep him 'in house' for at least a while, to work out any unforeseen bugs and make sure all potential viruses and other threats were safeguarded against.

Even if the company and resulting philosophical optimism was nice, he _was_ glad to get the guy out of his skull and into a computer finally, when his body was repaired enough to be working again. Housing a second personality had been eating up ridiculous amounts of memory, and the fact that the other Titans had caught him talking to 'himself' a lot had resulted in a lot of teasing and an uncomfortable 'You know you can always come to me if anything's bothering you' talk with Robin.

So yeah, Fixit in a computer? Not ideal, but it had its perks. Like the fact that Cyborg and Raven had one more chess partner. An irritatingly _good_ chess partner. Self-mocking Asimov and _2001: A Space Odyssey_ quotes, delivered in an eerily precise mechanical imitation of Fixit's 'real' voice, suddenly became a staple in the tower. Beast Boy's occasional accusations that Fixit was spying on his internet history got added to the meat and tofu wars as another traditional, amusingly stupid argument. There were more practical benefits as well. Robin was overjoyed, in his totally serious way, to have a real mind of sorts to control the training machines instead of pre-set programs, which adding a new level to their workouts so they could train even _harder_ (boo!).

Fixit wasn't exactly a Titan. Nor was he even a superhero. Just a computer program with personality, thoughts, intellect, and feelings. But he fit into the tower anyway, maybe because he was as much of a misfit as they were, in his own way. And he was happy for it. Or maybe he was just happy to be around people, and be useful, and be cared for and care in turn, however subtly.

After a few weeks, Cyborg asked Fixit whether or not he was happy.

"_Happy? Happy is not the word._"

The digitized face smiled, and went on before Cyborg could get in a word edgewise. For someone with such a mild 'voice,' Fixit was pretty good at overriding everyone else in a room when he wanted to. It was almost Raven-esque.

"_Happiness is an offhand result of malleable and impermanent circumstances. You ask me if I am happy, and I would say that I am, but I would not call that the defining element._"

"Okay, what _would_ you say's the defining element, then, smart guy?"

"_Serenity. For the first time, I feel that I am at peace._"

"You don't miss anything from before?" He didn't spell it out, but he was thinking of things like sunshine, and food, and sports...

"_No. I have everything I need right here._"

It was weird, but Cyborg was sure the guy meant it, too.

Of course, for all the hours spent talking with Fixit over matters of mechanical philosophy, there was still plenty of time for the rest of the team. In fact, he'd been been spending more time with Raven than ever before. She was surprisingly patient when it came to teaching him the basic principles of life-transferral magic. It would've helped if he'd known how to read Sumerian, though. Or Latin. Or Sanskrit. So, progress was slow. But being made.

Apparently it was uncommon but not unheard of for people to spontaneously manifest magical powers along a very narrow range, inclined towards a specific intense interest.

He loved living life, so he got life magic.

Whoo.

Too bad it had such a nasty cost attached, but Raven had considered that a compliment on the self-sacrifice inherent in his personality. He was still a little sketchy on that part, though.

After all, if self-sacrifice was what it took, then Beast Boy would've developed magic tricks a long time ago.

Cyborg was willing to give up a few years to do good deeds, but if a supervillain came up to him and told him to abstain from meat for the rest of his life or the earth would be destroyed... well, then, the earth would be just plain screwed.

-----

They'd been working out together (well, next to each other, anyway) in the gym when Raven decided that enough was enough. Very few things in life were more irritating than strong feelings of hesitation for no good reason. And it was just that sort of thing that had been wafting off from Robin ever since they'd gotten back from Metropolis.

"You don't seem to be brooding, so what's wrong?" she asked straight out, putting down the barbells and wiping sweat from her forehead. Maybe it was time to get a lighter cloak for exercise. There was no way she was going cloakless around her teammates. And the clothes that Beast Boy had suggested? Oh, no. She'd be dead before she'd be caught in _that_ outfit.

Typical of him, Robin kept on pumping the irons while talking. "What do you mean, Raven? Nothing's wrong."

She smacked him as though he were Beast Boy, and smirked at his slightly stunned expression. "You've been wanting to do something, but you keep putting it off. Whatever it is, just _do_ it. You're a leader, so act like it and be decisive."

"Grrgh. I hate empaths," he muttered, pumping the barbells harder.

"Everyone does," she said almost smugly. "Even empaths hate being empaths. So, are you going to go ahead and do it, or not?"

"I... I suppose. It's just..." He let the metal bars drop with twin clangs, and looked straight at her. A very calm, very peaceful, but very intense expression. Her heart beat just a little faster from it, and she had no idea why. "I... I wanted to talk about it with you first. I don't know why. A compulsion, I guess."

"You're talking right now."

"Yeah, I guess I am, aren't I? I've, um, I've decided I want to date Starfire. I mean, seriously. I want to make a commitment."

She smirked, relieved that he was going to finally give the girl what she deserved, while at the same time feeling a tiny pang of wistful envy that she mentally shoved aside with self-disgust. There was no reason to be anything but happy over the event. It had been inevitable that the two of them would either date, or Robin would not date anyone. And Starfire was just the kind of girl Robin needed, someone to lighten him up and keep him from going on self-destructive spirals.

"Glad to hear it, loverboy. So why're you telling _me_? Go tell _her_."

"Well, it's just that, I, uh, I..." The boy's words drifted off into uncertain silence, and he stared at her meaningfully, clearly wanting to say something but not knowing how to say it.

Oh. _That_. Raven suppressed a groan. Why did he insist on caring about that stupid little Trickster incident? It hadn't meant _anything_. Not to _her_, not to _him_, not even to, hah, _Trickster_. Just one more forgettable dirty trick in the villainous article, to be recorded and filed away with innumerable others.

"You know, I want to say I'm sorry, but I'm not even sure what I'd be saying it for," Robin went on, laughing faintly. "Starfire's a wonderful person... she makes me happy... but you're a wonderful person too, and I hope you don't forget that."

"Right, fine, I won't," she said quickly, panicking on the inside even while her face went utterly stony. She picked up her weights again and started working them like the fate of the world depended on it. "Glad we got that out of the way, let's talk about something else now. Like the weather. Weather's nice."

"Yeah, I like weather." He was _humoring_ her. She _hated_ it when people humored her. Especially when they grinned while doing it. "So, while I'm making you uncomfortable... are you ever gonna tell me what went on with you and Beast Boy back in Metropolis?"

It was a totally random question, and one that flashed her back to rather emotional memories when she was already in a _slightly_ vulnerable state. The weights slowed, and were abandoned again. She peered at him thoughtfully, examining his ruffled white t-shirt, the interesting good-humored twist to his mouth, the shining beads of sweat on his face and arms, the muscles that seemed to ripple even when he wasn't moving. Starfire was a lucky girl.

"That depends. Are you ever going to tell Starfire about this?"

Robin blinked. "About wha-"

She pressed her lips to his cheek, a touch as fleeting and delicate as a ghost's caress, not letting the kiss linger even an instant. She wasn't quite able to repress a faint smirk, nor a mild blush to her cheeks. "Just so you know what the _real_ thing's like, so you can stop thinking about that cheap imitation."

To his credit, he recovered more quickly than she expected, returing her smile with one of his own. Subdued, but gentle. Painfully open, but it was a good kind of pain between them. "I guess... in another universe... we could've been something, huh?"

"Mm, maybe. But not this one." She kept the smile as she said it, and it was only a little hard. "Well? Go on, go talk to her. Tell her all the sickeningly gushy things you want to say. She's been waiting for them. She's been waiting," she said meaningfully, "for a very long time."

"And... you're happy?"

Blech, why did boys always have to make things harder than they had to be? "There's lots of ways to be happy, Robin. For me, this is one of them. Get out of here."

He nodded and left the gym, a hyperactively cheerful bounce in his step, practically aquiver with anticipation. As for Raven, she wiped herself off, went to her room to change into fresh clothes, and then floated down to the main room.

It was half past noon, which meant that Beast Boy was probably up by now. Probably. And somehow or other he'd cajoled a promise out of her to learn how to play video games today.

He was up. In fact, he was waiting for her. Grinning hugely. With the controllers in his hands.

It was one of the scariest things she'd ever seen.

Cyborg was also there, though, lounging on the couch, and let his displeasure be known. "Raven, tell the bean sprout that you'll give your slot to me, pretty please? I _just_ got the new Zombies versus Ninjas game, and he's not gonna let me play it because he says he wants to torture you with FPS ownage!"

"I didn't say I wanna torture her!" he objected, while she was busy trying to figure out what 'FPS ownage' meant.

"Ah, but it's implicit," Cyborg shot back, waggling a finger.

"I am _not_ gonna make her play anything explicit, dude, I don't wanna gross her out!"

"You know you're not supposed to use big words around him, Cyborg," Raven said with a smirk, settling on the couch and accepting a controller and her electronically doomed fate.

"Yeah, Cyborg! I don't read _every_ book Raven reads over her shoulder, just _some_ of them! Like the Harry Potter stuff."

"Whoa, Raven, you read Harry Pot-"

"That's a filthy lie!" she spat out, cheeks heating. She quickly sought out the solace of her hood's shadow. "Uh. Can we just play now?"

"Ooohhh, Raven's _embarrassed_ that she likes to read Harry Potter 'cause it's so _popularrrrr_," Beast Boy's freakishly huge grin was back. "_Raven likes books 'bout Haaarrrrrry, even though they're not creepy or scaaaarrryy, and prolly wants Snape to pop her- _eep," he interrupted his own song, cowering, as her eyes lit up with white.

"Finish that song," she said very, very calmly, "and the police will never find enough pieces of you to identify the body."

Cyborg was being smart, and carefully backing away from the scene before he got caught in the crossfire. While still staying close enough to watch and enjoy the show. And... was that _popcorn_ he was eating? Where had he gotten popcorn?!

"I'll be good," Beast Boy said timidly.

"Good. So are we playing or not?"

He bounced back to cheerful in a millisecond. "Oh yeah! It'll be awesome! Just let me get the cd in... kay, there, all good to go. Now this game is called Halo, and you're s'posed to grab a weapon, and maybe a vehicle, and kill the guy on the other team, and sometimes get a flag..."

Beast Boy was a pitiless and cruel teacher. His way of educating her about the gameplay was to play the game as normal, only keeping up a steady stream of explanatory dialogue at the same time. So, in addition to having to figure out what was going on on the television screen and reacting appropriately, she had to listen to and interpret Beast Boy's hyperactive stream of verbiage. It was headache-inducing, and the fact that it took her almost a full minute just to figure out how to move her soldier around and change the view didn't help. A short while after that, she accidentally climbed into a flying ship of some kind, and crashed aimlessly into walls and structures before Beast Boy shot her down.

But it was alright, because one death didn't mean so much. The game could keep going for many, many, _many_ deaths.

She learned about the joys of being blown up by grenades. And then about being blown up by grenades that stuck to you even when you tried to run away from them. And then there were the needles that followed you, and the heavy artillery that exploded in a radius to kill you in one or two hits, and being run over by jeeps, and getting hit by a charged laser shot, and being shot in the head with a pistol...

During this painful learning process, she died twenty-seven times.

After thirty minutes of it, Raven was well and truly pissed, and _determined_ to not give up until she'd mastered the stupid game well enough to at least kill Beast Boy _once_. Suddenly she understood all the video game-related arguments. Her universe was incomplete until she wiped the smug smirk off that fuzzy little twit's face.

And then she found the sniper rifle.

It was just one more weapon amongst a confusingly varied arsenal, but just for the sake of the thing, she asked Beast Boy what it was.

"Oh, that's just the sniper rifle. It's junk. I mean, you can kill people with it, but it's way boring. _Real_ men use a sweet weapon like the fuel rod gun."

"But I'm not a real man, or haven't you noticed?" she asked dryly.

He coughed and flushed, muttering something indecipherable.

Out of sheer contrariness, she picked the thing up and tried it out. She was glad to find that it had a scope, like the starting weapon, but an _even_ better one, with a ridiculous range. Not much ammunition, though. But then... if it didn't have many shots... then it followed logically that the few shots it did have had to do something impressive, to make up for the lack of quantity.

"Hmm," she muttered to herself, smiling a little as she pondered her plans of vengeance.

"Oh, duuude, don't pick that, that's _so_ boring! C'mon, get in the banshee again! The banshee's awesome! We can dogfight!"

"You mean fly in circles around each other until one of us circles just a little slower than the other one and dies?"

"Yeah!"

"I think I'll stick with the rifle."

"Fine!"

Hoping real world logic would apply at least _somewhat_ to the game, she found a secluded perch to hide in that overlooked most of the map, figuring that was what a sniper ought to do. Now, where was... ah, there he was. Jumping around like a frog and spraying his blue energy shots all over the place.

She zoomed in.

She zoomed in again.

Well, this wasn't so bad, she could see him easily now, even though he was too far away for _him_ to see _her_.

Now, what body part was supposed to be the most vulnerable one, again? Oh, right, the head. It was a small target, but far from impossible to hit from such a zoomed in view. Beast Boy didn't seem to realize that the jumping only made his movements more predictable due to the limited trajectory. Oh, Azar bless pseudo-realistic gravity.

BLAM.

"DUDE! You took my shields out! DUDE! DUDE!" He ran like a chicken with its head cut off, and squawked like a chicken with its head still on. "That was _totally_ a lucky shot! When I get over there I'm gonna-"

BLAM.

"DUUUUUUUUUDE!"

She'd initially intended to stop playing once she got that one first kill, but his reaction was so amusingly over the top that she couldn't help but push her luck, trying to see if she could do better.

She sought out a different hiding place, and waited for him to get impatient and careless.

Which took approximately twenty seconds.

It took her a couple more shots this time, but she took him down again.

And the time after _that_, as well.

And again... and again... and _again_...

Joy in the suffering of others was generally something she tried very hard to repress, but this one time, it was too much fun to stop.

And with each death Beast Boy got louder, and more desperate, and more irrational. By the hundred twenty-fourth kill, he was almost foaming at the mouth.

He hadn't managed to get a single kill in since she'd picked up the sniper rifle.

"This is so unfair! I don't get how you're beating me when it's your first time playing! Sniping requires precision, and discipline, and concentration, and focus! How can you be so _good_ at it?! It doesn't make any sense! And, and I'm handicapped! You shouldn't beat up on handicapped people!"

"You've regenerated everything but your pinky. I don't think that qualifies as handicapped."

"Dude, you have _no idea_ how important the pinky is for this game. It's like, vital!"

"I haven't used my pinkies." BLAM, BLAM. "One hundred twenty-five."

"AAARRRRGGGHHH!!!!!"

Mercy was for the weak.

Although, her hands _were_ getting cramped. And there was certainly a lot of emotion in the room. It was time for Beast Boy to live up to _his_ half of their little agreement.

"I think I've killed your soldier enough for today."

"Oh, thank _God_." Beast Boy practically deflated in relief.

"Now it's time to do the activity of _my_ choice."

"Oh no... no waaaayyy..." He clutched his head melodramatically.

She raised an eyebrow. "Fair's fair. You thought it would be a good idea to spend more time together. We've done something _you've_ enjoyed... at least, theoretically," she added with a wicked smirk, "and now it's time for something _I'll_ enjoy."

"What do you want from me?" he whimpered piteously, as though she were practicing torturous interrogation techniques on him.

"Everyone on this team has some kind of experience with mental discipline or the nature of the supernatural arts... everyone except for _you_."

"Oh... oh no... do you mean..."

"Yes, Beast Boy. I think it's time you learned how to meditate."

"You hate me!" he accused wildly, crocodile tears in his eyes. She was mildly impressed, she didn't know _guys_ could manage that trick.

"Intensely and lingeringly," she deadpanned, bullying him upstairs.

When she got up to her room, though (intent on retrieving candles... she was _not_ letting Beast Boy in her room for a prolonged period of time!), she found an... alteration.

She hadn't yet given up her newly-acquired habit of making pyramids with her cards, although she no longer had difficulty meditating. However, she didn't remember using _duct tape_ to make any of the pyramids!

"Beast Boy, you snuck into my room again, didn't you."

"Yes ma'am," he said quietly, clearly hoping to avoid wrath by way of extreme submissiveness.

She walked closer to the bizarre construction. There was almost more duct tape than cards, and it leaned and bulged in odd places; Beast Boy had clearly struggled putting the thing together. And the 'Trickster' signatures were concealed by more tape, something she couldn't blame him for doing.

"What," she demanded of him, "is _that_?"

"Um... it's your card triangle thingy, that you've been trying to keep from falling?"

She blew out a breath in mild exasperation. She never _had_ been able to build it completely and keep it from toppling, not without cheating and using her powers. "Yes, but why is it put together like _that_?"

"Well, I couldn't get it to stay any other way. That's the point of the thing, isn't it? To make it stay together?"

She looked again at the pyramid, and then back to Beast Boy, feeling a surge of intense but completely unidentifiable emotion within her.

"Yeah..." she said slowly. "Yeah, I guess it is."

-----

"You will not triumph over the Dark Side young hero! Oh yeah, we'll see about that! Hah, the only thing you will see is my rancor's jaws crushing your feeble body!"

The furious duel between miniatures of Emperor Palpatine and He-Man was interrupted by a knock on his door. Huh, well that didn't happen too often. Most people didn't appreciate the cozy, fragrant atmosphere of his bedroom.

"Yeah, whassup?"

Their resident hot alien appeared in the doorway. "I hope I am not intruding, friend Beast Boy?"

"Naw, c'mon in! Oh, watch the pile of clothes on the left though. I think I saw something moving in there last night."

She stepped in gingerly. He started to wonder why gingerly was a word and why it meant what it did. Why not paprikaly or basily?

"Friend, I have been thinking for some time on this, and have come to the conclusion that our fallen enemy-and-friend Doll That Is Russian deserves a large rock carved into her appearance to honor her sacrifice. Since you have known her the most of any of us I wished to gather your opinion on this."

Pretend battles were forgotten for real ones. The Russian Doll's flippant, don't-you-act-bitchy-at-me-you-bitch speech and her bloodless but terrible death at Darker's hands flashed into memory. Why did nice people have to die?

"No, it's okay," he said quietly, setting the action figures down. "I mean, it's a nice thought and all, but she hated formal stuffy stuff. She woulda just thought it a waste of rock. She lived kinda like an animal, in a good way... just day to day. I don't think she really cared what happened once she was gone."

"She was a person of much practicality, then."

"Oh, totally, except for all the fun theatrical fighting stuff. You know, she kind of reminded me of Jinx... sneaky, kinda aiming for trouble, but not meaning anything bad by it."

"If you crave the deeds of mischief, perhaps the sorceress of bad luck would consent to visit our tower and stay for a while?"

He stared suspiciously. "Hey, are you trying to hook me up? 'Cause she's _totally_ with Kid Flash. At least they're always hanging around each other and stuff. And she talks to Cy more than the rest of us, so I think he's got dibs on her if KF gets dumb and drops her. She _is_ kinda cute, though..." he mused thoughtfully. "Eh, naw. I've run outta good pickup lines. You can never use the same one twice, y'know, they go stale if you do that."

"Truly? I am not acquainted with these lines of picking up that you speak of, can you explain?"

"Dude, you know. The stuff you say when you're trying to impress someone cute and make them like you."

"Oh, yes! On my planet it is more common to simply show a great feat of strength, such as slaying an elder _jurdoq_ and placing the head on the doorstep of the one affection is held for, but words are also sometimes used."

"Huh. Neat. So, what kinda things _do_ Tamaranians say to other Tamaranians they wanna play tonsil-hockey with?"

"Tonsil-hockey? I am unfamiliar with that sport."

"Heh, ask Robin to teach you how to play. You've got a date with him tonight, right?"

"Eep! I had forgotten! I must do the brushing of my hair for ten thousand strokes, and try out many different dresses of varying coloration, and-"

Whoosh.

"Heh," Beast Boy said, picking his action figures up again. He'd find out some Tamaranian pickup lines some other time. Maybe Jinx wasn't _totally_ out of his league. Or that cute red-haired foreign chick. What _was_ her name? Something with two syllables, he was pretty sure.

Star was sooooo Robin's, though, it wasn't even funny.

Lucky bastard.

It wasn't like there was anyone _else_ worth hitting on...

Unless...

"No way," he muttered disbelieving at Palpatine, shaking his head as if that would rid him of the random crazy, totally ridiculous thought. "Even _I'm_ not _that_ stupid. Right, Palpatine? Indeed, young superhero!"

On the other hand, if he ever got emo and wanted to die, at least he now had a plan for indirect suicide.

-----

Her biggest worry turned out to be interpreting the correct utensils for various functions. No one had ever told her there could ever be _three_ forks for a single meal! Robin had, as always, done his best to help her understand.

"Well, it's like this, the different forks are for different dishes. The one at the top of your plate is for... you know what? The heck with it, it's not like there's any possible way for any of it to matter. Eat whatever you want with whichever fork you want."

She stared uncertainly. "Robin, are you certain? I do not wish to offend any of your people with my ignorance of your-"

"-completely irrational and arbitrary cultural norms," Robin interrupted her, grinning. "Don't worry about it. It's not important. Enjoy yourself and be happy. _That's_ what's important."

And so she did. The dinner was very nice. The ride back on Robin's R-Cycle was even nicer, though. It was, if not very creative, a very definite step up in their relationship, something she'd been wanting for a long time. Being seen in public, not just as superheroes, but as a _coupled _superheroes... it was exactly what she had been hoping for. A Robin that wasn't ashamed to engage in traditional earthly courtship rituals. She would enjoy introducing him to traditional _Tamaranian_ courtship rituals eventually... but there was no need to hurry. He was a more delicate boy than he showed, and the kind of activities she had in mind would probably be too... _intense_... for him, for now. But she could compromise, she could wait patiently. Progress was being made.

But almost at the end of the ride, at the sea's shore, Robin stopped and got off, staring at the water contemplatively. The sun had long since set, and the waves were dark and gentle.

"Robin? Are you well?" She hoped he hadn't found something to brood over again, not at the end of their first real date.

"I'm great, Star. There's just something I wanted to do before we got back home."

She slipped off the vehicle herself and put a hand on his shoulder. "And what is that?"

He still didn't look at her. The waves were a soothing sound, though, she had to admit, and his entrancement was understandable. "It's funny... you'd think, living with a guy like Cyborg all this time, I would've figured out simple things like this a lot sooner..." He turned to look at her, reaching up to brush gloved fingers over her hand. "Life's too short to not really live it. A petty criminal who wasn't such a bad person in the end is gone... Beast Boy was _almost_ gone... for that matter, we could all die any day in our line of work. When I go, I want to go without any regrets. Without wishing I'd done something. Starfire... there are things between me and Batman, things I need to clear up. It's wrong to just let them linger."

She carefully disguised her disappointment. "I see. How long will you be away?"

He smiled wryly. "Oh, so you don't want to come along?"

"You wish for me to accompany you?" Her eyes widened in shock. "Are not your past and Gotham and the Batman private things that do not concern me?"

"I can't think of anyone they'd concern more. After all, it's only right that my father figure meet my girlfriend..."

Unable to help herself, she sprung up into the air twenty feet, performing a giggly twirl. Robin stared upwards, bewildered.

"Uh, Star?"

She brought herself to ground, grinning bashfully. "My apologies Robin. I was suddenly very... happy."

"Glad to hear it, but I'm not done yet." His arms entwined her waist, tugged her close. "The mask. Take it off."

If she had been overjoyed before, now she was simply stunned. It was a long moment before she could find words to speak again.

"You are not a robot of Slade, are you dear Robin?" she teased. "I had never thought I would live to see this day... never _thought_, but always _hoped_..."

She hesitated until he nodded her on, and then she carefully, nervously peeled the fabric off. It was attached by some sort of clinging substance, but delicately enough that it came off easily when deliberate pressure was applied, without leaving any marks or causing any discomfort.

"You look as beautiful with the mask off as on, I am seeing," she murmured, brushing fingers over his cheek.

The kiss was, by this point, inevitable and predictable, but no less intensely enjoyable for being those things. After a few moments, it became surprisingly intense as well, and was accompanied with mutual caresses... it was all she could do to remember not to use her full strength on him and hurt him.

After about a minute, they broke things off, panting and flushed. She handed her mask to him, but he waved it off.

"Naw. You keep it for a little bit. I wanna get back home first."

So he was planning to bless the entire team with his unmasked visage! Oh, what a truly _glorious_ day this was indeed.

When they got inside, she could scarcely contain her excitement.

"Friends! Friends, come quickly! Robin has something he must show you!"

She had a very loud voice when she wanted to. The remaining Titans were there in short order.

"Jeez, Starfire, my ears're practically-holyjumpingbeansonamoped..."

"Uh... wow?"

"Hey, what's goin'... what's... what's goin'... goin'... guh..."

Robin grinned and gave a little wave. "Uh... hi, guys?"

Raven, Cyborg, and Beast Boy gawked openly, jaws open.

Cyborg suddenly fell to the ground with a crash, and Starfire gasped. Had she excited her mechanical friend too much and caused some kind of malfunction? "Friend Cyborg!"

Beast Boy poked his gaming partner with a foot, staring down. "Dude. I think he fainted."

-----

The television spoke to a room dark as a cave. It was just a repeat of older news, and no one would have stayed up for it specifically. But, one pair of ears was listening anyway, simply because sometimes, you just didn't want to go to sleep.

"_-in fact, many experts are opining that the infamous incident now popular known as the Great Secret Identity Unveiling was merely a speeding up of a process already inevitable due to advancements in satellite photo technology. Both the United Nations and the Federal Bureau of Investigation have independently confirmed that at least fifty percent of the so-called secret identities are false, despite several of the names being definitively confirmed, most notably Clark Kent, Barry Allen, and John Stewart, also known as Superman, the Flash, and the Green Lantern. This has trimmed many of the prolonged, interconnected court battles down to the bare proven essentials, which still make for some of the most complicated legal debating the world has ever seen. Despite the inevitable complications, many legal experts have expressed a hope that this will be a positive event in the long run, allowing society to more properly encorporate super-powered individuals into the mainstream world instead of keeping them at arm's reach, separate, 'special,' and ultimately, perhaps even segregated..."_

He heard softly padding footsteps, so he muted the tv. He didn't bother getting up or turning the lights on, though.

"Hey, dude. How often d'you... aaahhhhmmm... sit around in the dark past midnight?" Beast Boy asked, pausing for a yawn in the middle of the question.

Robin turned around and chuckled a little at his teammate's attire. "How often do you wear Tiny Toons pajamas with little booties?"

"Prolly more than I should," Beast Boy confessed with a grin, patting down hair still ruffled from sleep.

"Same here."

His friend peered closer, saw the table and what was on it. "Hey, what's all that stuff? That's not a milk bottle is it? Wouldn't mind saving a trip to the fridge and its creepy blue fuzz..."

He shook his head. "Sorry. It's, uh, wine... and a few glasses... don't worry, it's not what you think."

"Good, 'cause you _know_ we'd all have to kick your butt if you became a freaky-deaky midnight alcoholic boozemonger!"

"Yeah, heh, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I set this stuff out because I wanted to celebrate... I don't know what, actually."

"No reason's totally the best reason for celebrating."

"Somehow I'm not surprised you'd think that. So, I wanted to celebrate together... a sort of toast, thing. Kind of stupid now that I think about it. And I planned it all wrong, anyway. By the time I chose the right wine and found some good glasses everyone was already asleep, hah. I was going to put the stuff up in a little bit. Do it another time, maybe."

Beast Boy sat down beside him on the couch, staring at the bottle. "Is it expensive?"

"By the standards of wine, no. By the standards of anything else we've ever drunk, yes."

"Cool." He was quiet for a moment. "It's kinda neat to know that you're down here, sometimes, just being all... Robiny. Like a good leader."

"A leader can never be better than the people he leads, y'know."

"Psh. C'mon, dude. False modesty's gross. You're way stronger than me... better'n me..."

"Why would you say that?"

"Look, you remember that time Star got zapped to the future? You were all superheroic, just like always. Even more _so_, maybe, 'cause you apparently had this rad black suit and worked alone. And me... I was just some dumb bald idiot in a cage. I'm just no good when I don't have people to help me out. I'm not strong like you. I need... people..." He didn't sound really depressed about it. A little sad, but mostly just accepting, and a bit tired. That might have been the awake-in-the-middle-of-the-night expressing itself, though.

"We all need people, Beast Boy." He smirked a bit. "Some of us just have a harder time admitting it than others."

"Hahah, right. And then there's the Metropolis thing... boy, we can never go back there, can we?"

"That's not your fault."

"Yeah, well, _some_ of it is. Anyways. Maybe I'm just thinking too much, but it seems like everyone got to learn something from it, got to be better people. Everyone 'cept me. Everyone had some kind of lesson... but like Trickster said, nothing that happened to me during that whole thing ever told me anything I didn't kinda know already, and it didn't help me beat him."

"Well, then, maybe your lesson's that not everything has a quick and easy answer. Maybe it's that sometimes, things are just plain hard, and you have to try your best anyway, win or lose. No one ever said doing the right thing would always be easy, or let you win at everything in life, or even give you what you deserve to get. But when you do the right thing... you know that you did the right thing, and no matter what else happens, nothing can take that away from you."

They sat there in the dark for a while, not talking, barely moving. Watching the tv simply for the sake of watching something, without either one of them really wanting to unmute it. It wasn't awkward so much as it was... solemn. A random moment in the night they'd probably never bother to tell anyone else about.

"So," Beast Boy finally said, "can I try some of the wine?"

"You want to?"

"Sure, why not? Never had any. Has to be good if it costs so much."

"Alright." He screwed the corkscrew in and pulled the cork out carefully, and poured a small amount into two glasses. He took one. Beast Boy took the other. They looked at each other, and there was something that was rarely shared between them: understanding.

"To the Titans?" Beast Boy suggested.  
"To the Titans."

The glasses clinked against each other gently.

"Change is hard," Beast Boy said, almost inaudibly, with a little sigh before taking a sip.

"But change is good," Robin said with a smile, downing his glass in a gulp.

End


End file.
